


Heaven Can Wait

by SteelandSilk (SilkCut)



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Intervention, Lost Love, M/M, Multi, Retcon, Retcon Timeline, Roommates, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkCut/pseuds/SteelandSilk
Summary: Neither Deacon nor Vlad would admit that they—at some point in their five-hundred year flatting situation—have fallen in love with Viago a little. In all those centuries, his consistent goal to find beauty in anything, particularly on the grimier and brutal parts about being a vampire, was quite inspiring.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

**Part I. In which Viago bemoans the state of disarray in the flat, and Deacon needs to make certain amends.**

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
Nocturnal men that they are, Viago and his flatmates slept during daytime. It's sort of what vampires had to do because sunlight will only set them ablaze, so might as well fuck it and stay inside the coffins all day.  
  
But on rare occasions that they don't do that, Deacon and Vladislav find other ways to fill the hours with proclivities that disturb the otherwise peaceful lodgings.  
  
Earlier this morning while all the windows were draped with heavy curtains and the entire flat smells faintly of jasmine (Viago was trying on a new scent), Vlad decided to invite his succubus companions for another orgy. Deacon, wanting to be included, attempted to catch one of the women. Suffice to say, he succeeded then begged the other two to allow him to keep the female as a pet.  
  
That was a rather eventful flat meeting. Deacon ended up getting what he wanted again but only after a few compromises. He has to feed and bathe the succubus pet all by himself and make sure she doesn't try to seduce and kill any human man in their neighborhood. Deacon thinks it's a pretty sweet deal.  
  
Honestly, Viago and Vlad shouldn't spoil him anymore. This is a flatting situation among three bachelors and not two bachelors who cater to the whims of their teenage son.  
  
So, orgies and demonesses for pets. That's okay and all, but also very tiresome and inconvenient for a certain dandy. But Viago knows better by now than to raise an objection. It gets worse from then on though, because the flat became lively for the next five mornings. None of them could sleep.  
  
He's read somewhere that human women who live in close quarters together tend to have their menstrual cycles sync up.  
  
Can the same thing be said about three vampires who happened to share insomnia for five straight mornings? Is that even a thing?   
  
And so, on the sixth morning they all remained wide awake, Viago decided to take advantage of it and made all three of them do chores. He was actually hoping that this little Spring cleaning of theirs would leave them all knackered and finally ready to slumber.  
  
But instead, Vlad and Deacon had a three-way with the succubus pet (who has taken a liking to being called 'Shockwave' by her new master). They were just in the middle of rearranging furniture in the communal area at that when Vlad and Deacon spitroasted her right there on Viago's nice, antique couch that's been stained red due to multiple feeding accidents in which neither of his flatmates would put down some goddamn newspapers or towels.  
  
Seeing his so-called friends fucking their way out of their chore duties while Viago had just been slaving away in the kitchen preparing them a nice pitcher of warm AB Negative, he just lost it.  
  
He takes the pitcher of blood and dumps it on Shockwave's exposed back, wasting it all as it drips into the cushions of that favorite couch of his. Clearly he doesn't care anymore.  
  
His flatmates merely saw his tantrum fit as foreplay and so Deacon attempts to kiss Viago while Vlad fumbles to unzip his pants. If it were under any circustmances, Viago would not have minded. They had all partaken in one another in the past, and that has never really affected their friendships in the long run.  
  
Until now.  
  
"The hell!" He shouts as he swats Vlad's hand away using the pitcher and pushes his other hand against Deacon's cheek to avoid the said man's mouth from landing on his, "Do you guys ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ think I would sex you after you had just ruined Spring cleaning?"  
  
The nerve! The ᴜɴʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴀʙʟᴇ nerve!  
  
"Just give in to the moment, Viago!" Vlad chides and tries to reach for his crotch again before Viago hisses warningly then backs away.  
  
"Stop being chicken ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜᴄᴋ," Deacon's distracting pelvic thrusting as he makes Shockwave do things to him with her mouth makes Viago cringe and close his eyes.  
  
"It's not enough you dirty my couch because you can't clean up after yourselves after you eat, now you sex a demon girl on it!"  
  
"We share her with you and you don't take it, you just nag!" Still thrusting, Deacon doesn't break eye contact with Viago who has at this point been staring at him now too because if he doesn't, his gaze will wander into unsavory territory and he can't have that.  
  
"You ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ get laid, Viago. And us three doing hanky-panky every few decades or so don't count," Vlad tightens his hold on Shockwave's hips as he grinds against her. "You need woman, yes? So take off those pants like real man and plow into this ʜᴏᴛ, ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛʏ enclosure that's ꜱϙᴜᴇᴇᴢɪɴɢ my--"  
  
Viago literally yelps as he brandishes the pitcher as a shield. "Ugh, ʏᴜᴄᴋ! Could you not paint with words about the debauchery you are doing. I can see it happening!"  
  
"But you're not even looking!" Vlad retorts then, as if to make a point, he pushes deeper into the demonnes, making her squirm and groan while her mouth is still full of Deacon.  
  
"This is ʙᴜʟʟꜱʜɪᴛ," Viago turns away and saunters out of there. If he had blood in his body, his cheeks would have flushed a beet red. He keeps his eyes closed the entire time so he hit his forehead on a doorframe before fully exiting the scene.  
  
He does the only rational thing left. Viago fetches Petyr from his tomb and lets their senior flatmate tear into the succubus, turning her body inside out after he's done with her. The sight is pretty ghastly, but Vlad merely looks annoyed as he pumps himself to completion. Watching Petyr eviscerate the female is good enough to finish himself off to.  
  
And Viago just rolls his eyes at how ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ that is for Vladislav. One almost expects it.  
  
"Now you clean the mess!" Deacon yells and kicks a pillow against the wall. He actually looks teary and hurt. "You had Petyr eat Shockwave. She was my pet and we had a deal! You ᴅɪꜱʜᴏɴᴏʀ the deal!" Then he spits on the ground.  
  
"I'm sorry, Deacon. I really am. But you and Vlad should have showed me more solidarity during these trying times."  
  
"What? What does that mean, 'trying times'?" Vlad is wiping his manhood with one of the many towels Viago had put out himself weeks earlier, for the very sole purpose of keeping them nearby the couch. And Vlad ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ uses one. So much for ᴛʜᴀᴛ.  
  
His couch looks shit now. Petyr had ripped through the left side of it whilst devouring the succubus, and now his favorite couch will forever bear that ugly tear. It was a nightmare! Viago wants to curl into a ball and just ᴅɪᴇ.  
  
Instead he sighs in resignation and mutters, "I'll go get broom."  
  
"Viago, what's wrong with you?" Vlad sounds genuinely concerned. He puts himself between the hallway and Viago and searches the other man's expression for some sort of clue.  
  
"I know what's wrong," Deacon lifts his leg and steps on the couch's ledge, almost in a dramatic pose. His boot just added more stains now too, ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ. Also, he's still pantless, but it's nothing Viago hasn't seen before.  
  
"He's still mopey about Katherine. I mean, it's bad when he's just pining over her but now he actually found her and she's totally old now. Also wrinkly. And he can't do anything about it. No one would invite him in the retirement house."  
  
He snorts as if that amuses him then adds, "It's so sad. Right, Viago?"  
  
Viago frowns deeply at the younger vampire but doesn't say a word. Deacon scoffs and says, "Then next time when sad you come to orgy and fuck sadness away with succubus pet. Cool?"  
  
"No," it was Vlad who came to Viago's defense, "Not cool. You stay away from the succubus girls. They're my mates. And Viago," he pauses and gently pats him on the shoulder, "You don't have to come in orgies. I'm sorry about the couch. Maybe we can buy new one on midnight sale later?"  
  
"It was antique," Viago leans towards Vlad as if he's ready to rest his head on his friend's shoulder and seek comfort. Vlad looks willing enough to give it. He's also still pantless, but again, Viago had seen it before.  
  
But then Deacon interjects, "It was so ugly anyway. You need new couch."  
  
Viago snaps his head at him and shouts, "I don't care if she's old and wrinkly and going to die, she was my first love ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ!"  
  
Before either men could react, Viago shoves Deacon ʜᴀʀᴅ that the younger vampire crashes into the blood-soaked couch next to Petyr who was still licking the bones from what was left of Shockwave earlier.  
  
"Fuck you, Deacon! You ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ will understand love like that!"   
  
Viago scurries off and turns himself into a bat since flight gives him a better advantage to get away. He retreats to his room and starts squeaking above his coffin. If he transforms back, he might just end up destroying his own things in the room, and he doesn't want that. It would be messy. And also undignified.  
  
Mostly messy.  
  
Back in the living room, Vlad gives Deacon a scolding look while Petyr mildly blinks his disturbingly white-blue eyes at the younger vampire and simply croaks out, "Yoυ αre αѕѕнole."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

**Part II. In which Vlad realizes someone needs an intervention.**

 

* * *

 

 

 

Viago doesn’t really have a temper, and so the fact that he blew up on Deacon two nights ago was very uncharacteristic, yet the other men decided to give their friend a pass since it’s probably an exceptional case. They had lived with him for too long and understood enough about his complicated one-sided love with Katherine.

Well, they tried to understand, but Deacon had never really been interested in relationships even back when he’s still a mortal. He was the eighth of thirteen children, and all he worried about then aside from diseases is to make ends meet and sell his wares (and he was shit at selling anything). Deacon’s first and only carnal experience was with one of his sisters, and he barely remembered that (he opened up about it once to Nick, who only asked if the sister was at least hot and Deacon disappointedly pointed out that she had not been).

Meanwhile, Vlad’s only serious affair is a sexually explosive yet abusive one, which left him a man impaled through the anus and exposed to the sun. That’s not an unfortunate hyperbole—it actually happened. Vlad’s ex-girlfriend Pauline “the Beast” doesn’t take rejection very well (who would, especially from a madman?). It was also the Middle Ages, and lovers’ spat between sadists usually end up with torture of some kind.

So Deacon and Vlad aren’t the best people to consult when it came to the matters of the heart. Romance and undying love is Viago’s expertise after all, and perhaps now it had become his greatest burden. Deacon is constantly baffled by many of the things Viago did around the flat too, while Vlad merely dismissed it as an era-specific vanity.

Neither man would admit that they—at some point in their five-hundred year flatting situation—have fallen in love with Viago a little. In all those centuries, his consistent goal to find beauty in anything, particularly on the grimier and brutal parts about being a vampire, was quite inspiring.

It was almost like having a woman in the household, but not the kind of woman who can cook and clean in a conventional sense but rather the kind who had come up with the method of hanging their food upside down while there’s a bucket underneath to catch the blood. Or mix blood and egg together to put into servings of French toast (vampires can actually eat bread and eggs; apparently, wheat and poultry are neutral). Those are all the things Viago had taken the pains of doing for the three of them including setting up his own alarm clock every six o’clock at night just to make sure none of them would oversleep (vampires can sleep inside their coffins for years and ignore the hunger pangs for as long as they’re too lazy to get up and feed themselves. Common cause of vampire death second to vampire hunters is consuming laziness).

Deacon and Vlad never even had to ask. Their dandy flatmate was more than happy to serve.

And perhaps that’s why it became so easy to mistreat and take advantage of Viago every now and then.

Another quality Viago possessed are his impeccable social graces. Vampires are brute monsters because it’s a trend that never goes out of style. And when you’re a blood-sucking menace, you can be a slob too. Either you tear into anyone’s throat at any given time (Deacon) or you perform wild acts of perversion and torture first before you can feast (Vlad). But Viago—well, he sees every feeding as a ‘date’ and serenades them with lute or do every other weird thing he does to put his food at ease before he drains them. He usually goes out of his way to be kind to everyone he encounters, especially his flatmates—and that includes his food, apparently.

Vampires don’t do dishes or put down towels, but Viago does these things anyway and reinforces the same kind of common decency around the household. It’s gratingly futile to act like gentlemen when no one’s keeping score anyway, but Deacon and Vlad often just do it because it saves them from attending any more of those stupid flat meetings.

Tonight, however, Viago doesn’t bother making a real nice evening for his ‘date’. He simply picked a man from the dance floor of the Boogie Wonderland club and fed on him inside of one of the stalls in the men’s water closet. Vlad happened to be on the next stall, hooking up with some girl he hypnotized for the night. He never would have realized Viago was beside him if it wasn’t for his dinner being rather vocal about his compliments.

“I’ve never really done this before,” the food says in a nervous yet giddy whisper, “But you’re a really handsome chap, you know and very, like, proper and sweet. I don’t even meet women who are like that or at least I don’t know any woman who…” and then it was cut off by soft sounds of what can only be kissing.

Vlad isn’t exactly eavesdropping, but he doesn’t have anything else to preoccupy himself with while the girl in the stall with him is on her knees and serving him. He’s actually a little bored already. In the Middle Ages, he would have decapitated this woman and shoved himself into her mouth even as she bled profusely from the neck. But Vlad had lost his appetite for depravity a long time ago. Getting impaled through the anus has that kind of effect.

“And, oh my god, you’re so good with that, man—no one has ever necked me the way you’re doing now…” the food kept describing everything like an asshole that it made Vlad roll his eyes. He is just about to scold the food for being so inconsiderately loud (and lame) when Vlad then he hears a groan so immense in its arousal as the voice adds, “Oh, Viago, take me now, man! Just have your way!”

“The fuck?” Vlad can’t help himself as he taps his knuckles against his side of the stall. “Viago, you said you weren’t coming tonight. Why are you here now with gay man and frenching and necking?”

“I’m not…I don’t think I’m gay!” the food protests in haste but he sounds unconvinced himself as soon as he declared that. There is no response from Viago at all.

“Are you coming with us to Nick’s old place?” Vlad asks next as he stares into the wall where the next stall connects, “Poor boy is still devastated about Stu, as we all are. We’re going to hold memorial.” Vlad then shifts his gaze downwards. “Hey, hurry up…” he says as his own hand presses against the back of the woman’s head below him.

Again, no response from his friend, but the food is now gasping and wheezing, murmuring how Viago is so good at whatever it was he’s doing now. Vlad had a clear idea about it, of course, and so he just says in a dismissive tone, “Fine, we talk later after you finish blowing that dude. I’ll probably go ahead and finish with my own meal.”

In hindsight, audibly sucking on the woman’s neck whilst a still very conscious food was listening in wasn’t the most subtle way of feeding. Viago’s food instantly panicked and kept knocking on Vlad’s side of the stall, demanding to know what was going on there and why there is blood dripping on the tiles below.

“Viago, can you just eat him already?” Vlad, in utter impatience, almost rips off the woman’s head from her torso as he sunk his fangs once more into the gaping wound on the side of her throat.

He hears faint whispering, and the food on the other side finally quiets down. But then a door opens and Vlad could see Viago’s shiny black shoes under the gap, which means he’s standing in front of Vlad’s own stall now. Before he could say anything, Viago tears the door right out of its hinges and grabs hold of Vlad’s woman with such a ferocious determination that the older vampire could only stare with a dumb look on his face. Viago then bares his fangs in a half-crazed fashion and bites a large chunk of flesh on the woman’s neck. He starts drinking her blood in the most undignified way possible, all while making eye contact with the other man. This is not something Viago has ever done before. He was always so mild in manners and said and did everything that was opposite of what a vampire should be.

And now he’s being a total vampire, slurping blood like it’s going to be his last feeding of the last century.

The very act was vicious and barbaric, and HOT DAMN did it turn on Vlad!

Back on the other stall, his own food remains perched on the toilet, obviously under hypnosis. He only peeks out after a few moments to say, “So, Viago, can I see you again after this? Maybe for coffee or a movie, man?”

And that’s when Viago unlatches his fangs from the woman and throws her back inside the stall with Vlad. With his chin caked with blood and his dark eyes burning with a passion none of his flatmates would ever expect, Viago just offers a boyish smile next; a winning one that’s half-goof and half-menacing only because of his fangs peeking out.

“Sure,” he answers as he steps closer to his food, “Assuming I let you live after this.”

Vlad’s jaw literally dropped as he can only watch Viago attack this next food with the same avid ferocity he used while he had drained the woman not mere seconds ago. Vlad drops said corpse on the tiles and cautiously approaches his friend. “Uh, Viago?”

A pair of men walks into the bathroom, and Vlad immediately hypnotizes them by saying. “You are seeing shit-encrusted toilet and now you want to run home and never come back. Like, seriously, just shit everywhere!”

Said men grimace in disgust at that implanted suggestion and rush out, closing the door behind them.

“Uh, Viago,” Vlad continues as he pats the other vampire on the shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it? I think you want to talk about it, yes?”

Viago whips his head towards Vlad, snarling. It would have been frightening if it wasn’t Viago.

“Hey, hey, it’s me, your friend Vladislav,” he squeezes his shoulder, “We should clean this up. I can’t hypnotize crowds of people anymore, remember? So…” he looks around at the blood stains and the dead woman on the floor.

Viago stares back unblinkingly. In a hushed tone, he says, “Here’s a thought, Vlad…” And then he leans closer. His mouth reeks of blood, but the aroma is most welcome for the older vampire. For a second he thinks he’s going to get frenched by Viago and they’ll end up wrecking this bathroom as they tango together in a wild frenzy of lust. That thought is very inviting indeed. The last time they have partaken in one another was, give or take, two centuries ago?

But then Viago ruins the beauty and magic of that possibility and says in that thick, vaguely German accent of his, “…why don’t you clean up the fucking mess this time?”

Vlad has a clever comeback to that, he swears he does, but then Viago morphs into a bat and flies off. What is he all of a sudden? Deacon? Only that bratty younger flatmate of theirs would do something like that especially when he wants to be difficult. And now even Viago’s doing it?

“Shit on a plague and bundle of sticks,” Vlad curses to himself as he stares after Viago’s bat-form disappearing into the dark sky, “I think we need to have a flat meeting about this.”

 

 

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RETCON stuff. Petyr never died. I removed that part in the last chapter where Vlad mentioned having a funeral for both Stu and Petyr. It was two sentences omitted, so now Petyr can actually be present in a few scenes to come. I would have to re-imagine what happened during that vampire-hunter event though, which will be written some time perhaps in the next chapter.

 

 

 

**Part III. In which the intervention reaches an anti-climax.  
**

 

 

* * *

 

  
Vladislav has never called for a flat meeting before. That was not how he rolled. He attends the meetings Viago set up only because that's how the routine of every night in the flat has started for them, and it helps for him to find his center each time he had to sit down among friends and discuss the most trivial of things. Vlad was born and raised in an era where death is so commonplace that leisurely talk like the ones they have in the flat are considered luxury.   
  
In the Middle Ages, when people weren't busy avoiding death by illness, they were also caught up running away from Death by Vicious Tyrant.  
  
Obviously, Vlad had one specific hobby he favored back then, and that was torture--the horrific, old-fashioned kind. He remembers being a duke of some sort, some royal title he can't specifically recall anymore, and that he never ran out of peasants or enemies to torment since it was an expected ritual to appease the hungers of a man of his stature because of how the world back then had a fixed hierarchy one does not just fuck with.  
  
But those were the days. Times had changed for everyone, especially for vampires. Tonight here in the modest city of Vellington, Vladislav has arranged his first ever flat meeting, and he's somewhere between nervous and annoyed to be doing it.  
  
For one thing, he had to wake up Deacon and Petyr first, and he wasn't sure how that's supposed to go, so he ended up getting into a bit of a bat fight with Deacon before the two put aside their petty differences to go downstairs and fetch Petyr. That was a colossal miscalculation. Their eldest and inarguably senile flatmate had insisted on carrying a one-week old carcass upstairs in the kitchen area, so convinced he was that there is more meat to consume from the decaying skin and brittle bones that neither Vlad nor Deacon had the heart to tell him otherwise.  
  
The stench of that fucking thing is unbearable, and they can't even open the windows because it might let in a vulture again. That actually happened one time because of Petyr's fondness for storing decomposing corpses which attracted the attention of said bird life. Viago had the worst hissy fit. Of course, he was polite about it, which meant he was a passive aggressive jerk for the greater part of the week and made Vlad and Deacon buy supplies to fortify the windows whilst he swept the floors of the cellar and lectured Petyr on the dangers of avian infestation.  
  
Back at present, Vlad, Deacon and Petyr sit around the table at the kitchen area as they wait for Viago to join them. Vlad then quickly fills the other two with the details concerning the incident in the bathroom at Boogie Wonderland.   
  
"I fail to see the problem there," is Deacon's ready remark, "He was finally letting off steam. Don't poop all over it with this intervention bullshit."  
  
"I don't intend to poop on it," Vlad replies, "But it was not normal behavior. Especially for Viago."  
  
"Seems to me like it's the most normal thing dandy boy has ever done in the last five centuries," Deacon keeps his gaze fixed on whatever he's knitting for the week, "And I already apologized. He still won't speak to me, you know. He's just being a big baby..." he pauses as he glances briefly at Petyr, "Maybe if we let him go off on a killing spree for a while, he'll get over it."  
  
Petyr actually looks like he's listening, especially given the way he just nodded.  
  
However, Vlad scoffs to express his opposition. "Killing spree? This is Viago we are talking about here, Deacon!"  
  
"Exactly, Vlad!" Deacon shoots him an impatient look, "And if anyone needs a killing spree, it's him! You're a master in the art of torture. Maybe he should take lessons from you, yes?"  
  
"Torture is not something taught," Now Vlad is offended for a different reason, "It is natural, like talent. Viago's talent lies elsewhere, usually in making things clean and pretty. And with lots of pottery. Like you are to knitting."  
  
"Maybe it can be new hobby for him, the torture? Or the killing spree," Deacon does sound like he's trying to be helpful at least, "Either way, he needs to let off steam. Cleaning and being a nag don't cut it anymore."  
  
"The point of this meeting is to make him understand how concerned we are for his erratic behavior."  
  
"I'm not concerned!" Deacon stops knitting for a while to fully engage in this debate now, "I'm supportive of this new leaf he has turned and is intent on sucking the life blood out of."  
  
"That's not even a real expression. Leaves don't have blood."  
  
"Not if the leaves have been doused with fresh blood from a nearby person murdering another person."  
  
"Then that blood would have dried already and not really advisable to suck, Deacon."  
  
"How would you know? Were you there?"  
  
"If I was there, I'd attack the actual two people and not the leaves. I mean, why go for the leaves when you have humans standing right there, with one of them still bleeding out?"  
  
Deacon nods almost apologetically, "Yes, good point. My bad."  
  
Petyr chews on a bone rather loudly, the crunch of it bringing the two younger vampires back to the real issue being tackled at hand.  
  
"We need to have a plan we can agree on before we approach him about this. It is a delicate subject matter after all," Vlad speaks in a hushed tone that's equally grim and anxious.  
  
"Okay, plan," Deacon rests his elbow on the ledge of his chair then snorts, adding, "Plan is while you poop on his new leaf, I'll be the good mate and suggest killing spree. Like, maybe, make a weekend out of it, you know. I'll even buy him more towels if he wants to do it at home--"  
  
"You're not listening to me, Deacon!"   
  
"Towels and brooms," Petyr interjects. The phrase actually didn't come out sounding either gutteral or piercing.  
  
The two vampires give him a dumbfounded look for a few seconds before Deacon laughs and pats Petyr on the shoulder, "My Creator has spoken. We will buy more towels and brooms and let Viago have his fun with the killing. Okay, team? Good plan!"  
  
At this point, Vlad has a hand on his face as his dismay for this pointless conversation grows. He is never holding a flat meeting for as long as he is immortal.  
  
"What is taking Viago so long? I thought he's coming?" Deacon has picked up his needles and resumed knitting.  
  
"I knocked on his door immediately after after I rouse you both. He never answered, but I told him we are having a flat meeting."  
  
"Maybe he's not even there," Deacon pauses thoughtfully and adds, "Maybe he's in a bathroom stall somewhere again, getting it on and feeding in excess."  
  
"That's going to suck balls. If he's been doing that still, then it means he's never come home at all since last night. But then where could he have hidden during daytime, huh, Deacon?"  
  
"He could have squatted," the younger vampire offers as the needles he is using at the moment chime against each other, "Or passed out in the underground. Literally. I did that once too. Sewers are suprisingly comfy."  
  
Vlad pounds his fist on the table, "Sewers? Do you hear yourself? Viago would rather fuck a dog than sleep in a sewer!"  
  
"Well, maybe he fucked a dog and then passed out underground!" Deacon also pounds his fist on the table, "That happened to me twice!" He clutches at his knitting with one hand and points an accusatory finger at Vlad. "And why do you hold Viago in some sort of pedestal like he's better than the rest of us bloodsuckers?"  
  
"Because he is better than us, you fool! And you said something really mean and cruel that hurt his feelings and now he's changed, and he won't speak to either of us now!"  
  
"Hello, mates!"  
  
Viago appears by the narrow doorway of the kitchen and waves at them. His boyish smile is bright as ever, accentuating his moon-faced innocence even further.  
  
It is Petyr who greets back Viago by waving what is left of a wrist bone.  
  
Still smiling, Viago says, "I see Petyr brought a friend over." He chuckles at his own joke and then gazes around the room before his eyes land on Vlad, "How are you tonight, Vladislav? Are there specific concerns you want to address for this meeting?"  
  
"Nothing very pressing," was the older vampire's response as he stares at Viago with an expression that's a mix between curiosity and caution.  
  
"Ah," the dandy vampire just smiles wider and now looks at Deacon. "Hi, Deacon."  
  
"Hi, Viago. How's Boogie Wonderland? Did you turn to a dog too after and maybe--"  
  
But Vlad interrupts that question by elbowing Deacon sharply on the chest.  
  
"Hm?" Viago finally pulls a chair and sits next to Petyr, "I wasn't in Boogie Wonderland last night, no. I've been reading Sex At Dawn again, and I have to say, eighteenth time still feels like the first time."  
  
"Wow, cool," Deacon couldn't have sounded any more bored.  
  
"So, Viago," Vlad leans in closer and stares into his friend's eyes while he carefully measures his next words, "About the other night. The, uh, bathroom incident."  
  
At first, Viago looks baffled and then he chuckles and waves a dismissive hand, "Oh, yes, that. I was in a sour puss mood. Sorry. But I feel much like myself again. Most definitely."  
  
As Vlad says, "Well, good", Deacon mutters a low, "Too bad". This time Vlad kicks the younger vampire from under the table.  
  
"I was very worried, Viago. We were very worried about you lately."  
  
Viago gives Vlad a weird look as if he's the one who should get his head checked out, "Why? I feel absolutely dandy." He giggles again. "Did you get that joke? Because I'm an eighteenth century dandy and--"  
  
"Yes, we got it," Vlad feels like resting his face on his palm again while Deacon just gives a thumbs up in response.  
  
"Is this why we are having a flat meeting? Because of me?"   
  
"Listen, don't be angry--"  
  
"I'm not! This is actually very sweet of you, Vladislav," Viago places his hand on the back of the older vampire's chair and rises from his own slightly so he could peck Vlad on his cheek. "Thank you for being so concerned about me."  
  
"Where's my kiss? I was worried sick about you too," Deacon interjects, "I was even saying we should buy you more towels and some brooms so you can clean because I know that shit makes you happy, Vi."  
  
Viago stares at his other flatmate for a few seconds. There's a small smile on his lips but something's off about the way he's just looking at Deacon like that. Since they are sitting across from one another, Viago had to lean even more so just so he can reach the other man. He then uses both hands to clasp them around Deacon's neck and, for a split second, everyone thought he's going to choke him.  
  
That is until Viago crushes their mouths together instead in an unexpectedly heated kiss.  
  
It lasts for as long as Deacon stays glued on his chair without doing anything. Once he's about to enjoy the treatment and fully reciprocate, Viago pulls away easily and stands up. He fixes the buttons of his vest, looking rather glib as he does so.  
  
"If there's nothing else, then I'm going back to my room. I have to prepare for something important later."  
  
"What would that be?" Vlad's head is spinning with so many questions. He has no idea how to react with Viago acting much like himself again yet at the same time not, and why there is this unmistakable sense of dread at the pit of his stomach that's telling him not to trust appearances, even if this is Viago, the most authentic fellow he has ever met who had always been true to himself in spite of his vampiric nature.  
  
"Oh, nothing to be so concerned about, Vlad," Viago renews his smile once then turns around to head back to the doorway. As he leaves, he continues, "I simply found Katherine at last, and I plan to turn her tonight."  
  
"What?" Vlad rises to his chair. "What do you mean you will turn Katherine?"  
  
"He's going to make her like us, Vlad. Pay attention," Deacon explains in a condescending tone.  
  
"Well, I don't think that's a good idea! Do you think it is?"  
  
Deacon raises his hands up, "Of course not! But if I say that, he may never make out with me again some time in the future!"  
  
"Idiot!" Vlad picks up the younger vampire's knitting and throws it right at Deacon's face, "What makes you think he will ever kiss you if his ex-girlfriend becomes our new flatmate?"  
  
He rushes to stop Viago whilst Deacon rises from his chair now too and sidesteps to avoid Petyr on the way.   
  
"Ah, fuck, I didn't even think about that!"  
  
The two of them try their darndest now to prevent their friend from making what would probably be the biggest mistake of his life.

 

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a good time reading this story and like what is going on so far. There will be more instalments. These are actually solos I had written in my Twitter RP account for Viago. I wanted to keep them coming every other week or so.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

**Part IV. In which Viago is faced with choices.**

 

* * *

 

 

 

L̲a̲s̲t̲ ̲w̲e̲e̲k̲ ̲

 

  
  
Nick was instantly in shock after learning that his oldest friend Stu had been mauled by werewolves. Anyone would be distressed especially a young vampire who is at last coming to terms with just how short human life spans are, and that there are worse things entailed to being cursed the way they are than just being unable to eat a fried chip.  
  
Bet Nick wishes now that dietary restrictions are still his biggest worry and not a dead friend.  
  
Viago, of course, wanted to comfort him then, because he knew it always falls to him to be the sensitive one, but then to everyone's shock, it was Deacon who volunteered first.  
  
That was deeply worrying, and so Viago followed after them and stood next to the cameraman who was still caked in blood himself. The dandy vampire ignored that long enough to eavesdrop on the conversation the two men were having.  
  
For the most part, Deacon was not doing a good job consoling their new friend. Viago would have stepped in and took the reins, until Deacon kept going and added, "...or ѕιмply dyιɴɢ oғ old αɢe. Bυт eveɴ old αɢe ιѕ вrυтαl. Wαтcнιɴɢ yoυr ғrιeɴdѕ ɢrow old. Tнey cαɴ'т pιѕѕ. Aɴd тнey ѕαу ѕтυpιd тнιɴɢѕ αɴd тнeιr вrαιɴѕ ɢo αɴd тнey cαɴ'т reмeмвer αɴyтнιɴɢ. Aɴd oɴe dαy тнey cαɴ'т eveɴ reмeмвer wнo yoυ αre. Aɴd yoυ wιѕн тнey were deαd."  
  
Deacon turned to Nick with a solemn expression and said, "αnd thєn thєч dσ díє."  
  
Viago ached a little somewhere close to his chest after hearing that. It was strange. He suddenly couldn't stay there and hear the rest of the conversation, so he turned around and walked back to where Vlad was busy hypnotizing one of the medics who picked up Stu's corpse on a stretcher.  
  
Upon seeing the other vampire, Viago kept walking towards him until he had both his arms wrapped around Vlad all of a sudden.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong? Are you hurt and dizzy?" Vlad clasped a hand on his back and then slowly pulled away so he could peer at Viago's face. "You do look pale. Well, we always look like that, but I meant it as expression, you know, because I actually meant you look spooked--"  
  
Vlad got cut off as soon as Viago bent down and nuzzled his forehead on the crook of the other's shoulder. The man instantly shut up after that, which was a relief. There had been moments--odd intervals over the course of five centuries since the three of them started living together--when Viago would just hold onto Vlad and not say anything. Touch came so rarely between vampires. It usually happens only during fights or sex, and maybe feeding (vampire blood is pretty gross, at least to Viago, but some vampires think it's kinky to take a sip during rough play).  
  
But this kind of touch happening at the moment--the comforting kind--is something Viago would express only to Vladislav when they're all alone, and the burden of the years gone by threatened to smother what little joys Viago could appreciate about living forever.  
  
Because, really, living forever sucks. It sucks more than the act of drinking blood.  
  
"Stu was great, no? We all liked Stu. He will be missed," Vlad spoke at last and rubbed his gloved hand on Viago's forearm before he moved his fingers to rake through his hair, "But don't be sad. This isn't our first human to die during a werewolf attack. I believe Stu is the sixth. Well, we also have that camera guy back there so--"  
  
"He's not just another number, another random casualty," Viago let go of the other man and looked off to a distance, "He was Nick's first."  
  
Vlad's eyes darkened with the melancholic understanding of what that meant. They all had those firsts after all.  
  
First human to have fed on and/or killed;  
  
First human to turn or promised to turn in exchange of servitude;  
  
First human to know about the vampire curse but loved them in spite of it anyway;  
  
Then that same human dies whether because of murder, unseen accidents or just old age.  
  
"You're right," Vlad nodded, "To us, Stu may just be another human who died because he got close to us. I was thinking he's probably somewhere around the twenty-eighth. I'm rounding off for the three of us, of course. My own count is higher than that. Because of the torture thing, you know. Even my human friends were not spared from that if they got me angry enough."  
  
Viago didn't mind Vlad speaking so callously like this. It was how they always spoke when it came to difficult, hard-hitting facts about the state of their existence. The fact was, death had been so ever present and woven into the fabric of their nocturnal moments that grief and mourning were simply not possible to give a shit about anymore, not when they had lived too long and had it happen to them over and over again; these humans they care for dying. Often (just like in Vlad's case), they themselves end up killing who they love.  
  
'One of the most unfortunate things about being a vampire,' as Viago would say in front of the camera.  
  
Because that's what being a vampire is overall once you stripped it at its core. It's a mísfσrtunє.  
  
"Death by werewolves may be a first for Nick but not for Deacon, I'm afraid. He lost two human friends to rabid werewolf attacks back in the fifties. Remember? It's why he hates those dogs. Good for Deacon to talk to Nick then, as one bereaved of a friend who died via werewolf to another."  
  
Vlad added, still rambling on. It was most probably his vain attempt to diffuse the sorrow he must be feeling about the loss. Viago won't judge him for deflecting feelings.  
  
Vampires don't do dishes, put down towels and talk about their feelings.  
  
Some vampires do, of course. Like Viago.  
  
He was going to rest his forehead against Vlad's shoulder again when he spotted Nick and Deacon coming back with the last of the two cameramen. Viago moved away and stood beside Vlad in silence as he waited for the two to approach.  
  
"Good talk, Nicholas?" Vlad asked with a pleasant tone, smiling awkwardly as he did.  
  
Deacon smiled back just as stiffly, "Yes, very good talk. I think my best one yet." He snorted and widened the smile.  
  
Nick's expression was entirely blank, but he did manage a rueful, "Yeah, my mate's gone but at least I got a good pep talk out of it, thanks."  
  
"Alright!" Vlad clapped Nick on his shoulder. "We will hold a funeral for Stu soon, I promise. For now we can't be here. Also, the humans badly need a wash."  
  
He glanced over at the bloodied cameramen who were meekly still recording everything, since they were obviously unsure of what to do with themselves.  
  
It fell upon Viago then to speak up for them and say, "You can use my bathroom, guys. The water works there just fine and I even have a heater installed." He paused and nervously looked at Nick, "Stu put it in two weeks ago."  
  
"Good man," Deacon offered. "So sad he can't wear the scarfs I made him. And yes, scarfs plural." Another pause. "He doesn't have a neck anymore to wear them anyway so--"  
  
"We should, uh, start heading back," Vlad cut him off and then swung an arm over Nick's shoulder the entire time and allowed the grieving vampire to lean against him for support whilst they all walked. Nobody spoke anymore until they reached the flat.

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
N̲o̲w̲...

 

  
  
Viago more than expected to meet opposition regarding his decision to turn Katherine. He also knew that the so-called 'flat meeting' earlier was an obvious intervention. He had attended his own share of that way back in the day, and one of them had even been for Vlad and how he must end the toxic relationship he had with the Beast.  
  
Once he sensed that Vlad and Deacon were running after him right after he left the kitchen, Viago turned around and faced them, ready to hear their protests yet still determined to hold his ground against them.  
  
"You can't turn someone into a vampire by yourself," Vlad is first to speak up, "We also made a pact two centuries ago after that debacle with the twins."  
  
"This is different," Viago offers promptly, keeping his tone as patient as possible, "Katherine is nothing like the twins. She won't hunt beyond her means like those girls did."  
  
"Comparing Viago's croaky old ex to those hot, crazy girls is unfair to the hot, crazy girls," Deacon interjects.  
  
Viago's eyes flash in anger upon hearing that. He can't believe he just kissed this asshole moments ago, but he really should have been used to Deacon being a wanker. So he bites his tongue and just focuses on speaking to Vlad instead.  
  
"This is not a good idea," Vlad steps forward and places a hand on Viago's forearm. "We agreed way back before that Jackie wouldn't be turned. It was the right thing to do. But then Nick turned her instead."  
  
"Dick move, by the way," Deacon scoffs and crosses his arms.  
  
"Yes," Vlad adds with a nod, "But he doesn't know why that was a dick move. We have yet to tell him, given that Stu just died and all."  
  
"Excuse me," Viago can't take it anymore and addresses Deacon now, "But I think you're just angry that Nick got to her first. Admit it, Deacon! This is about you again being a jealous prick!"  
  
For a moment Deacon just stares back aghast and unable to either speak or move. And then his expression hardens and his tone becomes harsh when he grabs Viago by his frilly collar and says through gritted teeth, "She's a mother of three with a husband. Imagine the shit storm that would come for the next few decades when she has to watch her children grow up and die and not be able to turn them to save them..."  
  
His grip tightens, "...and then she'll either beg us to turn her kids or just kill her so she doesn't have to bear the pain, if her grief doesn't kill her first!"  
  
Vlad tries to get in between them, but Deacon just shoves Viago against a wall and keeps going, "And you want to turn Katherine and make her suffer too? Why? When she becomes a vampire, she will outlive even her grandkids. That would destroy her, idiot!"  
  
Viago blinks. He can feel something was lodged deep into his eyelids and it's making him tear up. He needs to scratch it out. What was it? He couldn't be crying because Deacon was right, was he? That he was being selfish for even contemplating of condemning Katherine to this misfortune that was the life of a vampire?  
  
"I miss her..." Viago manages to say through shaky breaths. "And seeing her again...I just remember how much I wanted to be with her but that I never did," he sniffs and turns his face away as he says, "Stupid Philip! Stupid postage!"  
  
"Stop making him cry!" Vlad is able to push the younger vampire away at last. "You're out of line. You don't get to say that to him!"  
  
"Viago needs to get over his crush! She couldn't even wait for Viago back then, for fuck's--"  
  
Vlad steps forward with an ominous glare, his eyes becoming a glowing yellow as his fangs grow out a few inches from his parted lips, "Shut up, Deacon. You've gone too far."  
  
And the younger vampire does keep quiet for a few seconds before he blurts out, "Eighteen months? She couldn't wait for Viago for eighteen months? She's the stupid one!"  
  
Vlad's expression reverts back to normal again. "What are you even trying to say? Wait a sec, you can't mean--"  
  
"Don't you know?" Deacon sticks out his chest ans looks at Vlad squarely in the eye, proclaiming, "Because I would have waited until the last sunrise in the world. And you would have done the same, right, Vlad? Because you feel it too, don't you?"  
  
Viago wipes his cheeks and listens to this exchange with a glum yet curious expression. He inches closer to Vlad but instead of resting his head on the crook of the other man's shoulder (which he's so tempted to do right now), he had to ask, "What is Deacon referring to, Vlad?"  
  
"Don't say it," Vlad sounds rather...scared. He raises a hand towards Deacon and repeats, "We had a pact. We agreed never to tell him!"  
  
"What are you two hiding from me!" Viago has had enough. How long have his flatmates been speaking about him behind his back all this time? "Tell me now!"  
  
And that's when Deacon surges forward, sidestepping Vlad so he could reach out to clutch one of Viago's wrists. Before he could do anything about that, the words spilled out of Deacon's mouth. There was a look in his eyes that Viago has not seen before and it made his gut feel weird.  
  
"I would have waited for you to find me here in New Zealand, Viago, if only I was the woman you loved..."  
  
An awkward pause. "...I mean, if it was me, not Katherine. You get it? I'm not saying I wish to be a woman, okay? I mean--"  
  
"Sweet baby Jesus in the bleeding womb..." Vlad covers his face and turns away. He rests his forehead against a nearby wall, sounding exasperated when he grumbles out, "We agreed never to say, dammit!"  
  
"Say...what exactly?" Viago can't process any of this. It's all happening too fast and now his throat feels dry. When was his last feeding? Is this hunger? No, it's different--this feels much more urgent.  
  
"Cat's out of the bag, Vlad, give it up."  
  
"Because you drag cat out of bag, you dick!"  
  
"That's not even the expression."  
  
"Oh, so you're actually criticizing me about idioms?" Vlad glares as he rests a hand on his chest, "Right now?"  
  
"Guys," Viago interrupts, "Speak plainly, please. I'm so confused."  
  
"Okay, plainly," Deacon lets go of his wrist and clears his throat, "Plainly speaking, I'm in love with you. So is Vlad. We have confessed this to one another some time during the early eighties. Right after your birthday. You know, when we had that party."  
  
Viago can't speak. He just stares at Deacon then at Vlad, then back to Deacon again...then behind him where Petyr was. Their senior flatmate had been standing by the doorway for god knows how long and is quietly just watching all of this with what is unquestionably a giddy grin plastered across his horrific features.  
  
"And then we agreed to bury it away," Vlad elbows Deacon and steps forward in view so he can meet Viago's eyes, "But yes. 'Tis true. You...you're the reason I ended things with Pauline. I didn't know then until during that birthday party. It was the happiest night the three of us had and you were at the center of it."  
  
He slowly reaches to take Viago's hand. "Funny how you can know someone for so long and maybe even spend the eternity with them; and not even realize that it was everything you've ever wanted...that is until you realize someone else feels the same way too."  
  
"That would be me, to you, Vi," Deacon smiles in a sheepish way that's so unlike him.  
  
"Okay," Viago keeps staring, not knowing what else to say. He lets Vlad hold his hand for a few more seconds before he pulls away and tucks both hands behind his back. "I, uh, need some time to think about this."  
  
He doesn't wait for either men to say anything before he breaks into a half-run and rushes towards his bedroom. Viago locks the doors and then covers his mouth with both hands to keep himself from making a noise that is between a strangled scream and a low moan.  
  
Oh, sweet baby Jesus covered in the Virgin Mary's blood and juices! What is he supposed to do now?  
  


 

 

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	5. Chapter 5

 

 

**Part V. In which Viago reminisces dalliances from the past.**

 

* * *

 

  
  
The misfortune of becoming a vampire was never in his goals. Viago remembers having only one dream growing up, and that was to please his patriarch.  
  
His father had always treated Viago with a mixture of curiosity, disdain and disappointment. At times he did find his only son's consuming preoccupations with the arts and music to be a quality and endeavor worth having, yet he also despised that Viago mostly spent his time with his sisters and their friends and gratingly acted as if he was one of the women and not their gentleman suitor.  
  
It would have been one thing if Viago had set his sights on a young lady from a well-respected family, which was why he opted to linger in his sisters' company every time they were among other ladies with good prospects. But the patriarch, Lord Von Grossenhymen, soon learned that Viago merely enjoyed small talk with these women, so they could gossip about the latest fashion and their own suitors, some of whom Viago went to school with.  
  
"Why not befriend these fine men and establish trust and rapport with them instead, as oppose to following and mucking about with the girls," his father had remarked once during dinner, "Are you their pet dog? Because you certainly do not pursue any of them for matrimonial potentials."  
  
And Viago made some faint excuse that the 'girls' treat him more kindly than the men his father spoke of, but Lord Von Grossenhymen will not hear any of it and will continue to force the young man to attend gatherings where his schoolmates would be present. None of these so-called gentlemen ever spared Viago a glance, finding him queer in so many respects, especially since a few of their own sisters and cousins were known to accompany him during afternoon tea and gossip.  
  
For Viago did enjoy throwing his own lavish parties for his lady friends' benefit. He would have the household staff bake pastries and other assorted treats for them whilst he would play various string instruments to entertain (mostly lute or lyre, depending on the request). People would have assumed that this makes him a master seducer and philanderer, but Viago had always treated his female guests with an innocent, if not childlike, fondness. He never once expressed any kind of lascivious misconduct, and all his heartfelt compliments were directed mostly to their dresses which he, on occasion, requested to sketch for remembrance.  
  
And so Viago, to his male peers, was only worth speaking to out of patronage to his father, a well-known merchant who had since turned his ambitions towards politics and public service and therefore earned the approval and respect of many families in their region.  
  
One of the young men named Jakob did attempt to converse with Viago during a drizzling night after he was invited to an extended luncheon in the Von Grossenhymen estate. Jakob then had been courting the eldest daughter Elsa, but he could not freely interact with her, of course, unless she was chaperoned. The father ensured that Viago was to be that designated chap, if only so his son could bear witness to what a proper courtship should entail and be convinced to engage in one soon.  
  
As odd and off-putting as he may come off to his own gender, Viago was more or less still a gifted conversationalist, provided that he was comfortable with the company he needed to rouse and charm. He was rather fond of his big sister (although Elsa herself was a bit cold-blooded), and it showed in how enthused he had been to spend time with her in the common room even though there was a third party involved.  
  
He kept alternating among Vivaldi's compositions, the rise and success of the opera, and the astounding legacy that ballet still maintains to that very day. Viago's passion for these things as he tackles them ceaselessly had illuminated his handsome features, making Jakob realize that if only the other man was aware of his own appeal to both sexes and can utilize it properly, then he could have easily been a renowned bachelor who can swoon and woo anyone he wanted.  
  
Jakob was beginning to find him fascinating. And so when Elsa excused herself to retrieve something in her private chambers, said man began to probe Viago with a series of superfluous questions. Not quite used to the attention (and subtle advances) from the other man, Viago tried his best to engage even as he remained wary of the other male's intentions. Elsa was gone for at least ten minutes (since she had been accosted briefly by a younger sister who insisted on settling a debate with another sibling), and it was plenty of time for both men to get acquainted.  
  
A week has passed before Jakob sent a telegram to invite Viago to luncheon, but this time in his own mansion, which Lord Von Grossenhymen graciously accepted for his son. He was relieved that a young man close to Viago's age has reached out to at last form a brotherly bond with him. That was the idea at least.  
  
Viago was quite surprised that Jakob prepared them a luxurious spread for lunch and set it up under the shade of a sturdy Elm tree at the heart of the mansion's gardens. He never thought it suspicious at all because he was far too thrilled knowing he's made his first ever male friend; something his father had been adamant about from the very start.  
  
Jakob could also play an instrument; the clarinet. The two men spent a good two hours just eating and playing favorite pieces together in between. Things were coming along splendidly normal until Jakob asked Viago to walk beside him in an isolated spot under the Elm. There were tiny yellow and pink flowers that have gathered across the grass, and it delighted Viago to inspect them, all while he imagined what they would look like on his sisters' hair. He was in such high spirits that he had half the mind to weave flower crowns right there in that moment, regardless what Jakob might say.  
  
He was about to start picking the flowers when he felt Jakob come close behind him. The other male's arms wrapped around his body in an unexpected though not entirely unwelcome embrace. Viago let out a small squeal followed by a giggle, something he knew was quite unmanly so he hastily cleared his throat and tried to apologize.  
  
But then Jakob spun him around and cupped both his cheeks. Viago didn't resist only because he did not understand what was about to occur until the other man surged forward and kissed him hungrily, claiming his mouth in a heated, dizzying manner that Viago lost his footing and slipped onto the awaiting flowers below. The brief clash of teeth made way to a dalliance between tongues, and Viago lost control of all his higher faculties and pressed himself even closer to Jakob.  
  
He offered no verbal protestations as Jakob stripped off the barriers of clothing between them until they were both shirtless and reduced only to their undergarments. Both men pushed back against one another for dominance next, their hips colliding in a synchronized beat so alike the duet they shared when they played string and wind just moments ago. Only this time the pulsing vibration came from the dark stirrings in Viago's loins, the heat poooling at his gut and unraveling him.  
  
His grip on the other man's hips tightened until the nails had dug deep enough to break skin, but Viago held on nonetheless. Unperturbed of the pain, Jakob continued to move his expert fingers across his throbbing shaft, urging Viago to reach sweet completion soon, and he did.  
  
Once satiated, Viago could only stare blankly at the clear skies above, too lost and uncomprehending of everything else due to the sheer pleasure he had just achieved. But then Jakob was kneeling next to his shoulder, offering his own manhood. Viago didn't even think twice as all instincts kicked in, and his lips found their way around the swollen tip. With a groan, Jakob cradled the back of his head and slowly rocked against Viago's face, all while his hard cock glided roughly in and out of the other man's eager mouth.  
  
He did his best not to choke even as he could feel his lungs slightly constrict and his eyes water. When Jakob came undone, Viago froze in place, but his tongue did slide across the underside of the other man's cock to savor the tangy flavor of Jakob's seed. It almost dripped out of his lips if only he didn't swipe his tongue quickly enough to lick them.  
  
The two men laid beside one another on the grass, both still reeling in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Viago would have been content to lie like that forever, with Jakob's arm draped around his shoulder, holding him close. But then the other man slowly rose, saying, "Listen. I'm going to marry into your family by next month. I proposed to Elsa yesterday and she accepted."  
  
Viago wasn't sure if that revelation should be a cause for either pain or dismay, considering the depths of intimacy that had just taken place. However, Elsa was almost twenty-nine, and it was already such an inconvenience to their patriarch that she had not been taken as a wife yet, when Viago's two other younger sisters were already wedded.  
  
"You're doing us a kindness, especially Elsa. And so I offer you only the warmest of congratulations and gratitude for choosing my darling sister as your bride," was what Viago managed to say albeit with a rueful tone.  
  
Jakob laughed and ruffled his hair before planting yet another kiss on his lips.  
  
"We are going to be family," he remarked then swung his leg over the other man so Jakob could sit on Viago's lap. Raking his fingers through his future brother-in-law's hair, he added, "And we shall have plenty more time to explore the many possibilities of that, so do not fret."  
  
He kissed Viago with a fierce passion again and only pulled away so he could murmur, "...there are so many people I want you to meet, Viago; men and women who would prostrate themselves just to have the rare opportunity to be in your bed."  
  
Viago wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just smiled and nodded. He had never truly dwelled on such matters before, but he's always considered himself a quick study and so learning new things were right up his alley.  
  
"I would like to make more acquaintances that could bloom into friendships," he commented while he and Jakob began putting on their clothes, "Very much so. More male company is what my father thinks I need."  
  
"There will be an endless parade of that," Jakob glanced sideways at Viago and smirked, "You really must not neglect or underestimate how desirable you could be. It's as if you have never seen yourself in a looking-glass before, Viago."  
  
The man in question was already busy plucking the flowers from the grass and gathering them within the coattails of his attire. When he looked up, he realized that Jakob was just staring openly at him. He had no idea how to react to that, so he opted for another awkward smile.  
  
And Jakob laughed before he wrapped one arm around Viago's shoulder to pull him in a brotherly embrace (the irony was not lost to either man).  
  
"Have you truly no idea that you are a beautiful fellow?" Jakob asked.  
  
"My sisters once told me I have unique charms, but I think they were just teasing and making fun of me," he responded as he pressed closer to the other man, seeking his warmth and inviting scent. He still couldn't believe how much has happened in such a short time since he met Jakob.  
  
"Well, you are," Jakob faced him fully again as the arm on his shoulder slithered downwards to wrap around Viago's waist instead. "If only time permits it, I'd spend hours just worshipping every inch of you with my mouth."  
  
The scandalous implication made Viago's breath hitch, but he will not be caught off-guard nor tongue-tied again. With a steady and rather smoldering gaze, he only remarked, "Who's to stop you, pray tell?"  
  
Jakob broke into a grin, clearly excited by the challenge that was offered. For his part, Viago just kept smiling in that same moon-faced innocent way he always had, as he protectively cradled the flowers he had gathered. He then glanced at Jakob one last time before he started to walk at his own pace, expecting for the other man to follow, if not chase after him.  
  
Perhaps he truly was not as ignorant as he believed for himself when it came to his attractiveness. Viago likes to keep an open mind about everything, including carnal entanglements, as it turned out. But not the loving kind. At least not until Katherine.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VON GROSSENHYMEN is Viago's canon surname. Check out DATING VIAGO 101 Bonus feature available in YouTube. It's seen in the credits.


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

**Part VI. In which Viago receives good advice.**

 

* * *

 

 

"This is bad," Deacon remarks as his eyes trail after Viago who scurried off back to his room like some scolded child. He wanted nothing more than to chase after his friend, but his emotions are a mess at the moment, and he may just say more confusing things if he dared confront Viago again. With a sigh, he adds, "I think we just spooked him."  
  
Vlad's expression, meanwhile, had gone dark, but there's a softness around his eyes too that betrays his real feelings about the circustmances, "And whose fault is that? There was a reason we made that pact long ago, you toff! And that pact dictates specifically, and I quote, 'Deacon and Vladislav shall henceworth never reveal their amorous intentions for Viago, their flatmate, nor will they pursue him lest the three of them cease to become friends altogether'."  
  
"Where are you quoting this? Did we ever write it in paper somewhere? Would have remembered that."  
  
"It is an unspoken agreement," Vlad crosses his arms as he frowns even deeper, "Look, there's a broom in the closet. Clean your shit up."  
  
"I lived in that closet for years, and I saw no broom!"  
  
"I meant that figuratively! Also, I was being sassy, which is wasted on you all the time. Why are you so bad at nuances of language, Deacon?"  
  
"Maybe because I was illiterate growing up and wasn't some fancy pants with a royal title who can poke whoever he wants back in the day!"  
  
"How dare you!" Vlad now grips the younger vampire by the lapels of his jacket and shoves him on the wall beside the staircase, "I didn't wear pants for a week after Beast impaled me. I'm sensitive about that and you know it!"  
  
"Now who's been taking things literally?!" Deacon shoves back Vlad before he grabs him by his collar next and tosses him to the other side of the wall.  
  
Vlad is still older and definitely stronger so he coils just in time and uses the impact to fly towards Deacon so he could punch him right on the nose.  
  
"This..." Deacon swipes his hands on his bleeding nose and screams at the other man, "...is SO HOT! But I am TOO MAD AT YOU to even MAKE OUT! You suck! Big time!"  
  
Vlad nods once in agreement. He's quite crossed with Deacon too, so he will abstain from turning this brawl into a full-blown fuck. After all, both men had always enjoyed rough play before rigorous sex. In fact, that's how all their carnal encounters together have occurred over the years while living in the flat.  
  
(Viago had to replace a few furniture before, all thanks to the two of them).  
  
This situation should be no different. Except it is.  
  
"We need to deal with Viago. And quick," Vlad concludes as he straightens the wrinkles on his clothes.  
  
Deacon has also simmered down, using a piece of cloth to dab on his nose. "Agreed, but how do we do that?"  
  
"I'll talk to him."  
  
Both men turn to look at their other flatmate. Petyr had been leaning on the doorway of the kitchen, nonchalantly inspecting his long yellowed nails. Whenever he speaks, there is hissing and lots of spit coming out (it sounded like AYZ TOK TU HIMSSsss), but the words are still discernible for the two other vampires who had grown accustomed to the speech barrier.  
  
"What are you...even going to say?" Deacon eyes his Creator nervously. Unlike the rest, Deacon has a direct sire bond with Petyr and treats the ancient one as his paternal figure in a lot of ways even if they do goof around every now and then.  
  
"Stuff," When Petyr said that, it comes out as 'ZAFFFFsssss'.  
  
"What is 'stuff', Petyr. At least tell us about--"  
  
Vlad is quickly silenced as Petyr glides closer by simply using his powers of elevation and speed. He's now floating inches away from Vlad, brushing a crooked finger with a sharp nail across the younger vampire's lips.  
  
He may have been known as Vladislav the Poker who had tortured indiscriminately and torched down cities for the hell of it, but he recalls that Petyr was once a story told by his nursemaid back when he was but a wee boy. Vlad also remembers being plagued by nightmares for nights on end, dreaming of being led to trek across looming vacant halls before journeying to a dungeon where a creature so foul awaits for him.  
  
Understandably, Vlad is quaking in his boots at the moment.  
  
Widening his ferocious smile, Petyr then reaches out to remove the prosthetics from his mouth and then hands it to Deacon for safekeeping. See, about two centuries ago, all of Petyr's fangs have fallen out, both due to lack of proper dental care and old age. It was Viago who found the right people to help create prosthetics using Petyr's old fangs, and that's what he's been using to feed and chew with ever since.  
  
Vlad tries to hold back a laugh as soon as his fear has been replaced by amusement because the sight of a fangless Petyr is just ridiculous. He looks like someone's granpa, if said grandfather also happens to have striking white-blue eyes and pointy ears plus severely weathered complexion.  
  
(Again, Viago had tried every type of lotion and moisturizer there is to keep Petyr's skin intact even if it can never be smooth, but what only worked, apparently, is blood from the very first bleeding of a girl who reached that age of maturity. One can only imagine how rare Viago can chance upon such a young lass in the middle of the night and at Vellington square. The guy runs so many weird errands for everyone in the flat, that's for sure.)  
  
"I'll go talk to Viago now," Petyr speaking with fangs was as much as a hoot as he is when enunciating with them. In the blink of an eye, the senior vampire leaves.  
  
Vlad and Deacon look at one another.  
  
"Sorry I told him," Deacon mutters as he carefully balances his sire's prosthetics with one hand. The fangs remain sharp after all. "But I can't take him pining over Katherine still. And now this talk of turning her into one of us too? None of us ever lived with a woman before."  
  
"You had five sisters. One of them you even fucked," Vlad offers in a dry tone.  
  
"Not gonna be the same though," Deacon scoffs, "I'm pretty sure Viago isn't going to let me fuck Katherine, no? Also, she's old and gross now. And would Viago really fuck old woman, even if he turns her into a vampire?"  
  
"You have a gift for tact, Deacon, and a real romantic."  
  
"Thank you. I don't even put in effort. I'm just natural at it."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Viago was kneeling in front of his coffin, staring at the scanned and printed photo of Katherine which he had glued to the interior awhile back. His fingers trace her face in utter worship, lavishing it with such care as if she might as well be there to be caressed. Due to his position on the floor, it almost looks as if he is praying in devotion to his own personal Mary.  
  
The bittersweet sanctity of the moment is interrupted when Petyr graces the room. One moment it was just Viago all by himself and the next Petyr is whispering in his ear, "You've been sadder than usual, child."  
  
Viago, quite literally, bumps his head on the lid's coffin as he quickly tries to close it.  
  
"Petyr? What are you even doing here? And how--"  
  
"Listen, you're being a pussyfoot. And you need to get a grip."  
  
"A...pussyfoot?" Viago frowns at the odd and quite frankly insulting choice of word, and is about to retort but then Petyr starts talking over him before he could even get a word out.  
  
"Yes, pussyfoot dandy man. You are so moody lately, moodier than usual. And now this Katherine business. Messy. Not like you at all."  
  
Viago huffs then crosses his arms like a petulant Deacon. "I appreciate your concern, Petyr, but I don't really need to be told--"  
  
And then Petyr grabs hold of Viago's face with his large palm, enclosing his claws around the nose and mouth. Words die in the younger vampire's throat in an instant as he stares at the other, his eyes blinking nervously through the fan of yellowed claws now enveloping his face.  
  
"You know what happens when you turn someone you care about into creatures like us, don't you?" Petyr asks the unmistakable rhetoric, "Back in my day, I was one of the first of my dwindling kind to play with the idea of transfering my genes to a new generation of monsters. I got bored and lonely too often especially when there were so few of us left. Meanwhile, humans are endless and careless, loitering around questionable places in the dark, like they're just begging to be killed and eaten. It was such good times."  
  
He releases Viago's face slowly but continues to narrate, knowing he now has Viago's full attention. How could he not? It is so rare to witness Petyr so lucid these days, let alone demonstrative and coherent in speech. For a moment, Viago forgets everything else, lulled by the sound of the ancient vampire imparting his tale.  
  
"After a while I began to turn a few of my food into creatures remotely like me. But it started out as a prank, honestly. I just wanted to see what my blood could do if a human chokes on it right after I drained him. And it was so funny to see humans can be made into like me too, only weaker and still just as stupid."  
  
He cackles at that. "These 'vampires', as I deem them later on, are all pathetic. I have given them youth, strength and the ability to sustain their lives by drinking the blood of others and what do they do with all that? They mope about not being human as if being human was ever that great, especially back in those days. They also form cliques and isolate others who are also like them just so they could feel they're bourgeoisie. Worst of all, they act like their sadness is so unique and that they are misunderstood romantics or sadists who love their drama and hate anything that reminds them just how empty they truly are without it."  
  
Petyr goes quiet after that and Viago could only wait in bated anticipation. He doesn't know if he should say something just yet. When has Petyr ever been so garrulous, let alone wise and opinionated before? For a good century since, all three of them just assumed he had gone senile already and would to crumble into dust at any given moment. Viago had taken pains to keep him alive, though, for the sake of showing respect to whom he consideres the elderly as far as vampire hierarchy goes. But he never would have imagined in another hundred years that Petyr is more than just an old family member to feed.  
  
The power and truth in his very old friend's words had definitely rendered him both stupefied and more vulnerable than before. Viago could feel the sting of something sharp in both his eyes and chest. It was the realization that in spite of the extended life span he shared with Vladislav and Deacon, they still remain very much children in Petyr's own eyes, one who had belonged to another race that is now extinct.  
  
And with that, Viago tried to hug Petyr. The other, however, avoids the contact just in time.  
  
"Don't be so melodramatic," he counters, "I'm not looking for sympathy. What I'm trying to tell you is don't be me. Don't just turn someone into a vampire because you're bored or you assume that prolonging their life to match yours in eternity will make any difference in the long run. There is always going to be bad days, Viago, days when you feel that you are indeed alone, so you will attempt to inflict that on others. Don't do it."  
  
"But if you hated what happened to us, this next generation as you call us, then why did you even turn Deacon and stayed with him afterwards? Why turn Nick months ago when you could have let him die?"  
  
And Petyr smiles. It's hard to tell. He has no fangs and it looked a little creepy that he even smiled.  
  
"Because, every now and then, for every rotten vampire son of a whore I've sired or my kindred would sire, there are still a few good eggs. Deacon was one. He knew how to live and not overthink with self-loathing. And the Count, Vladislav, eventually he got almost as old as me and is now learning to look out after you younglings."  
  
He steps closer to Viago and rests a hand gingerly on the younger vampire's shoulder, "As for Nick, I just thought you all needed a new baby. Babies always bring joy to families, right? Because that's what this is for me. And you...you're the best egg of them all, Viago. So I'm getting annoyed at your pussyfootness right now."  
  
Viago would have wept but he knows Petyr might just outright stab him with his claws if he did, so he just smiles in that awkward, impish way he does. But then it falls apart next as he says in a hushed tone, "I still...want to see Katherine and tell her everything. She never learned I was a vampire and...I just thought that, after everything that has happened, I just want her to know who I am."  
  
"I heard that before," Petyr looked a little irritated again as the lines on his forehead creased even more than usual. "In a really whiny human song."  
  
"Yeah," Viago looks down sheepishly, "It was on loop on the laptop last week because Deacon and I can't figure out at first how to select a new song on the player. But after six more times that the song played, we just kept it as is."  
  
"That song gave me an earache. I wanted to kill all of you that day, but I was also too tired to get out of my tomb."  
  
"Anyway!" Viago amicably starts patting Petyr on the shoulder as well, "Thanks for the chat. We haven't really heard from you in a while, you know, so it was great to listen to your advice."  
  
"I was trying to do a vow of silence. Like a monk. I might as well. Also, I find that none of you would bother me when I just snarl and spit and bare my fangs at you losers. I like that."  
  
"That's...not very nice, Petyr. And did you learn such crass language from Deacon or something?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The pair of them shuffles together outside of Viago's room. Petyr then looks back at the younger vampire and says, "Go. Go to your woman. Do what you must to make peace. I'll handle the rest here."  
  
"Thank you," Viago does tear up now. Before he could further express heartfelt gratitude, Petry once more grabs his face and shoves him back inside the room with some force. As soon as Viago blinks away the surprise of that, he finds that his old friend has disappeared.  
  
With a small smile, Viago finds new strength and purpose for what must be done next, so he transforms himself into a bat and flies off into the night to see Katherine at last.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really only had to find some quiet time for two hours on my phone to type this out. And yes, all chapters of this story had been typed out using my Samsung Galaxy J7 Prime. Taika Waititi himself endorses the brand, and that's just one of the many things I have in common with my lord and savior.
> 
> The song Petyr talks about here is IRIS by Goo Goo Dolls.
> 
> And now I'm off to write the second chapter for that Clementiti RPF. Do check that one out too.


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

**Part VII. In which Viago remembers his penance to a loved one and the crucible he bore for her ever since.**

 

* * *

  
  
  
Sometimes, as a bat, Viago forgets who he is. His leathery wings would take him so close to the moon that he becomes drenched in its soft light. It almost feels like silk against his rough chiropteran skin.  
  
In that moment he wasn't a vampire. He wasn't ever a human with a flawed history and regrets that he still carried around. He was just a bat. And there was only the moon and the endless stretch of darkness around him.  
  
Viago arrives to the retirement home about half an hour later. It's far too soon to be here, but he knows he can no longer delay what's to come. He doesn't immediately transform back into his original form, however, and flaps his wings more slowly this time as he hovers above the window where Katherine's room is.  
  
The lights are out. Viago squeaks, using its echolocation to determine where his precious Kit rests, but the glass gets in the way so the sonar only bounces back to him.  
  
Isn't that just the perfect metaphor for his centuries-long pining for a woman he could never have?  
  
The thing is, Katherine dela Rosa was the only woman he had ever loved. He met her at a time when the transition to a vampire's way of life was so stifling and lonely, and she had given him a good reason since to not to walk towards the sunrise one day and just burn to a crisp.  
  
But that was then. Viago has Vlad, Deacon and Petyr now. And he loves Vellington. But he misses Katherine too. Almost as much as he does Elsa, the sister who couldn't forgive him.  
  
Viago tries his best not to dwell on that again, but as he flies upwards to perch by the rooftop for a moment, he couldn't help but let his mind reel back.

 

  
  
◦◦✜◦◦

 

  
  
  
The wedding between his sister and Jakob Chagal took only less than a month to prepare. The patriarchs of both families had possibly wanted to get it over with, seeing as their children aren't getting any younger, which is mostly true for Elsa's case. She needed to be not only a wife but a mother soon.  
  
It's a large enough gathering, of course, very high-society. Viago helped with the details, particularly with the food and musical entertainment. Elsa was his favorite sister after all and, in hindsight, it was mainly because she was never fond of him, much like their father was. Something about an emotionally unavailable kin makes Viago eagerly seek out their approval and attention, like his own worth depended on achieving them.  
  
He wished he knew back then that it would ultimately become his undoing.  
  
In the following weeks before the marital ceremony itself, Jakob tried to be alone with Viago on a few occasions and after three missed opportunities, the younger man has decided to have a proper conversation with his future brother-in-law concerning their dalliance way back.  
  
That conversation worked only for Jakob's benefit. Viago should have anticipated that having it behind closed doors would put him in a sore disadvantage. Needless to say, both men tried to be more discreet about their little experiments, seeing as neither intends to stop soon, and certainly not Viago. He may be ruefully hesitant about bedding his sister's soon-to-be spouse over and over again and yet each time it happens, he can't seem to control his own wretched carnal needs.  
  
Inexperience and a deep-rooted desire to please and feel valued were Viago's main weaknesses in character. With Jakob he simply felt like he was more than just a brother for his sisters to tease or his father to be disappointed about. Jakob touches him with such care and affection every time they're together that Viago's defenses would just fall away, and it wasn't like he had many to begin with.  
  
He and Jakob were still intimately involved even after he and Elsa had taken permanent residence in the Chagal manor as a married couple of only three months. His sister never suspected anything amiss in those months at all. She had just assumed that her husband and brother were like any pair of gentlemen who became fast friends.  
  
Viago had also begun interacting with Jakob's other companions. Two of them (a man and a woman) he even occasionally went on long walks with or spent some time with in a private area in taverns for conversations that were heated and elaborate. They would always almost get physical, but Viago has learned to practice both discretion and prudence by now to avoid getting caught and becoming the talk of the town.  
  
But secrets, no matter how well-concealed, were bound to be uncovered.  
  
It all started to unravel when his youngest sister Sofia stumbled upon Viago one afternoon. He was between the legs of female company, with his face buried under her puffy skirts as he navigated the depths of her. Neither sibling dared bring it up during family dinner with Lord Von Grossenhymen that night. Sofia did have to leave the table early; so overcome was she by embarrassment to have seen her brother engage in something she has believed for a long time he will never be interested in.  
  
Viago eventually made her promise not to tell a soul.  
  
Things have simmered down between himself and Jakob after seven months especially since he and Elsa were copulating more and more so they can produce an heir. A year has passed and the couple still remained childless. It hurt Viago to know his sister will quite possibly never know such happiness, given that Elsa seems very keen on becoming a mother. Viago believed very dearly that she had it in her to be maternal, in spite of the outward glacial behavior she demonstrates around people, including her own family.  
  
Two years into the marriage, Elsa at last found out about Jakob and Viago's affair, but only after the last embers of the men's passion for one another had officially died out. It was still an overwhelming betrayal for his sister, more so that she found out about it too late. For so long she had blamed her infertility, unable to forgive herself for being unfit to fulfill her biological destiny (as what was ingrained in most women of traditional upbringing back then). But now she realized that perhaps the fact that her own husband didn't want her was also a cause for her inability to conceive.  
  
She would have gone to Lord Grossenhymen about it if only Sofia didn't plead on their brother's behalf. The era back then didn't take too kindly to men having carnal relations with other men, and the sisters knew Viago will be stripped of his titles and then exiled to some prison somewhere. And that kind of punishment was already merciful, only because he came from a good family. Worse things could still happen to him though, if the law and the church would decide otherwise and their father would not care to speak on his son's behalf during the trial.  
  
Elsa conceded because she wanted to save face and make her marriage work. But the ice in her veins never thawed especially towards her treacherous, vile brother. Jakob, she could forgive, for their union was blessed by God and she believed it could be redeemed provided he will never stray again. But what kind of monster would betray his own flesh and blood the way Viago had done just because he couldn't control his urges? Elsa has never said this to his face, but Viago could read them in each passing glance they would share at family dinners.  
  
Two weeks later, Elsa found an escape. Someone has convinced her that her life was forfeit, and that it was time to start a new one. A worrying change came over her in the next eight consecutive nights. First came the fevers. Then the night terrors. The sleepwalking. The unruly aggressive behavior in the mornings when she insisted to never get out bed and for all the curtains to be thick and dark around the household.  
  
Finally, they've found Elsa on the highest part of the manor close to the roof. She was humming to herself, lost in a delusion that only she could see. And then she took a leap. But no one found her body on the ground where she should have fallen. It captured the imagination of the town. Most claimed that she must have been a witch. It would explain why she was barren and unmarried for so long.  
  
Viago and Sofia didnt care for these awful rumors. They knew that someone was responsible for Elsa's disappearance and after examining her personal effects, they soon uncovered letters in which she had written to a man who went by an obvious alias. Their correspondence lasted for a month, which was just around the time she found out about her husband's infidelity.  
  
Viago and Jakob decided to search for this mysterious man. Upon finding his address, it also led them to Elsa herself who looked about the same except she now behaved strangely, almost like she was a different person. The first thing she did after the men found her was to seduce Jakob right in front of Viago, running her hands around his body and kissing him around the neck, all while her brother watched in fear, far too stunned to react. It was clear that there was a force inside her that cannot be tamed, and all Viago could do then was to beseech her to come home with them.  
  
But Elsa only stared at Viago. He expected a coldness in those eyes again, but instead there was a glint of mischief which he had never seen in his sister's expression before. He was afraid but also ashamed. He drove her to this, didn't he? He broke her trust and her heart and so she was forced to seek out salvation from a complete stranger who had turned her wicked.  
  
Jakob did his part to snap his wife out of it, but in response she grabbed him by the hair and forced his head to jerk to the side, which exposed his neck. Viago was unable to interfere as Elsa sank her mouth into the other man's pliant flesh. There was a sound of something tearing as Jakob screamed. Viago echoed the same frightful shout as he stumbled back and fell down a staircase behind him.  
  
When he came to, there was no sign of his sister and Jakob anymore, only a looming figure in the shadows, touching his forehead. There was a wound there, its depth quite pronounced, and he was bleeding out from it. Viago tried to say something, but it was as if something heavy had compressed his lungs.  
  
The figure spoke up first, "She's mine now."  
  
Tears stung his eyes as he struggled to answer. After a few more seconds he was eventually released from whatever hold this monster had on his body. The words spilled out from him instantly before his mind could even process what they meant.  
  
"If you are to take her, then let me come with. I don't want her to go through this alone, never again."  
  
"I can only take the one whom I have turned."  
  
Viago didn't understand but he still tried to negotiate, citing, "Then turn me too."  
  
A raspy laughter filled the dark room, "You don't know what you're asking for, child."  
  
"What I'm asking for..." There was a lump in his throat that made it rather difficult to form words, especially with a head wound, but he kept going nonetheless, "...is a chance to repair what I have destroyed. I can't do that if you take Elsa away. I still have so much I need to atone for. Please...whoever you are, and whatever it is you should do to me to make it possible, at least let me be with my sister."  
  
"Your family squabble does not interest me..." A pause. Viago could feel the creature coming closer. There was something wet on his forehead now, but it wasn't just his blood anymore.  
  
"However," it continued, "You are a very pretty boy and you taste very delectable."  
  
Oh gods, that's what it was. The repugnant creature was licking him.  
  
"What is your name, dandy boy?"  
  
"Viago."  
  
"Well then, beautiful Viago; this will only hurt for a moment and then comes an eternity of bliss, freedom and power."  
  
"I don't care about any of that, so long as I'm coming with you and Elsa," Viago tried to get up but the creature's massive hand pushed him back to the ground. Shivering, he squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a prayer. He could feel hot breath on his face as fingers began to untangle the knot on his collar, almost ripping it off so it could free his throat.  
  
Before he welcomed the indescribable pain once those terrible fangs punctured through his neck, Viago muttered, "Please...please spare Jakob. Take me but please let him live!"  
  
He had never really made sure if the creature granted his brother-in-law that clemency. When he came to for the second time, he was lying inside a decrepit coffin and he was so, very, very hungry.  
  
Elsa was there. She was dragging a young girl with her, a bar maid from the looks of it. She and Viago locked gazes for a brief moment before his sister tossed the girl towards him as if she weighed nothing.  
  
"Gather your strength," she commanded him in a very impersonal tone, "We leave the country with Amadeus by nightfall."  
  
Amadeus. That was the name of their maker. Viago would obey that creature for as long as he remained sired to it. But at least he and Elsa will be together.  
  
Unfortunately, it wouldn't be for long.  
  
  


* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a whole month to update this fic. Once again, I only needed a few hours of free time to type it all in one go. I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> So this chapter covered Viago's turn to vampirism. It is a little sad, but this has been my headcanon for him ever since I started roleplaying him on Twitter. If anyone is interested to check that out, it's [@abitofawildcat](https://twitter.com/abitofawildcat)
> 
> Coming up next is my Taika/Jemaine fic!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me two months to find a free day to type this installment in one go. I hope I've managed to make this piece worth the wait! Things are starting to progress now and, trust me, the love triangle will be touched upon real soon once Viago gets his shit together first. Just a heads-up for all those who are waiting for some slash ship content. Leave me a review if you feel like sharing what you think, y'all!

 

 

**Part VIII. In which Viago realizes just how much grief can truly bring people closer together.**

 

* * *

 

 

 

The painful reminisce of Elsa is brought to a halt when Katherine opens her window from below the roof where Viago, still in bat form, was staying. How will he go about this? It was one thing for him to make a decision to turn her; it's another for him to actually go through with it. Nevertheless, Viago's mind is already made up.  
  
He has spent centuries being separated from the only two women he had ever loved. There is no way he'll ever get back Elsa, not after he came to terms that her forgiveness is something he could never earn. And so he sure as hell won't let this opportunity to be reunited with Katherine slip away from his grasp.  
  
Eighteen months, three centuries; none of these time delays will get in the way ever again.  
  
Being quite theatrical in a manner that could rival Vladislav, Viago of course wants his appearance to be memorable once he comes face to face with Katherine tonight. He wants to descend from the skies like a lone dark angel, his expression serene as a smile brimming with love lights up the rest of his face. Vivaldi would be playing in the background to perfectly capture the atmosphere of this momentous occasion.  
  
And Katherine wouldn't recognize him at first; that's how shocked she would be of his magnificent figure suspended in the air. This set-up would be akin to a Biblical story in which she's a maiden with a beautiful heart being visited for the first time by her guardian angel.  
  
Viago curses himself for not wearing a cape though. It would have made the image in his head and the actual meeting a hundred times cooler.  
  
He's so lost in his daydream that he starts excitedly flapping his tiny bat-wings, expressing jubilance. Just then, he hears Katherine below say, "Oh! You did come after all! How very thoughtful of you!"  
  
Viago freezes. He almost morphs back to his original form right there and then. Could it be...how did she know?  
  
And then another voice speaks, "Yeah, sorry if it was a little later than what we agreed on, Kit. We're still looking for his body. Couldn't actually have a funeral without something to bury."  
  
Without realizing it, Viago-bat swoops down to where the voices can be heard. He starts squeaking at Katherine's unexpected visitor but that squeak translates into a language that only another vampire could understand psychically.  
  
｢Nicholas? Nick? Why--I mean, how do you even...how long have you been seeing my Katherine?｣  
  
Viago feels a mixture of confusion, dread and anger all at once. It keeps him in his chiropteran form, since he was far too stunned to remember transforming back at the moment.  
  
"Ah, Christ!" Nick winces as he stays close by Katherine's open window, floating in the air himself and dressed as he usually does with that annoyingly dumb look on his stupid face!  
  
｢Explain yourself! How do you know Katherine and how long have you been seeing her?｣  
  
"Look, man," the younger vampire swallows before he elaborates, "You asked Stu to locate her, right? And he's got the address of the home she's staying in, and while I was looking at his laptop days ago and getting all sad...I saw those details and I just thought...look, I wanted someone to talk to and I figure, like, an old person would understand about...death stuff."  
  
He then wraps his arms around himself as if he's cold, and Nick never looked so much his age in that moment. A cloud of grief and depression hangs over his head, making his features even paler and more sunken than they have ever been.  
  
"I miss my best mate, Viago. And none of you vamps know anything about how much it hurts to lose someone so suddenly and brutally like I just did. I mean, you don't really care anymore. You're either too insensitive or too self-absorbed to...I don't know, just be there for another bloke!"  
  
Viago is shocked. This time he does transform back. He forgets for a moment Katherine was even there until the woman reaches for Nick and wraps her arm over him as she makes him lean his head on her shoulder. The position is a little awkward, seeing as Nick is still hovering outside her window and that she's shorter than him.  
  
"The Viago I know is neither of those things. He's actually really kind and sweet and knows how to be a friend for someone who needs it the most," and this is when Katherine finally looks at Viago. Her acknowledgement of him is just as warm as the day when they first met.  
  
It was a few days after Viago had been abandoned by Elsa, and he was ready to end it all. Walking in the woods as the sun rises for a new dawn seemed like the best way to go. He abhorred his unclean existence as a bloodsucker anyway; he only allowed himself to be turned so Elsa will never be left alone to live an immortal existence. And now his sister deserted him, calling him ugly names he had never thought she would be capable of even speaking.  
  
Viago felt like he deserved it, deserved it badly enough that he should burn into a crisp once the sun appeared in the horizon.  
  
But then Katherine had stumbled upon him at the right moment. He must have been the saddest man to ever stand on the edge of a creek, his cheeks stained with tears and eyes swollen almost shut. There was no way he could have seen her until she rushed forward and made herself known. Katherine had welcomed him in her arms then, a total stranger, and took him to a nearby cottage where she lived with this other woman.  
  
They let him stay for the rest of that day, neither fully aware that he was a vampire who could easily tear out their throats and consume their blood. Of course, Viago never harmed them. How could he, when he was so overwhelmed with gratitude for her? Through her friendship, the dandy vampire found another reason to go on. And so he had made visits to that cottage ever since, and by the time he learned that Katherine and the other woman she lived with were romantically involved all this time, it was far too late and he didn't care.  
  
Viago has already fallen in love with her.  
  
Weirdly enough, he never thought about stealing her away from her lover. He liked Amanda; she was exactly the kind of person he could understand why Katherine fell for. And Katherine trusted him. In fact, he was the only other person in her life whom she disclosed her relationship status with, and the fact that she could get amorous with men and women alike. It was something Viago had in common with her; to not discriminate between genders or any gender when it comes to romance and soulmate connection.  
  
And this was why Viago knew she was the one for him. It was so rare back in those days to meet and feel accepted by someone who shared a piece of you that society would deem an affront to a religion or a way of life. If Katherine could accept his pansexuality (a term he encountered recently), then surely he could share his vampiric affliction without expecting her rejection or, worse, persecution. Wasn't it so?  
  
But tragedy struck not soon after, and Katherine needed to go away and without Amanda by her side.  
  
The next part of this memory recall is hard to talk about, and so Viago decides to push away those murky thoughts of the past and focus now on the present.  
  
First off, he needs to apologize to Nick.  
  
He floats closer to where the other two are by the window.  
  
"Hey, Nicky..." he reaches forward by poking the other on his elbow, "I'm sorry. I know I overreacted. Will you please look at me? We never meant to exclude you, okay, even from the start. And things were difficult for us too after what happened to Stu."  
  
He pauses before he adds, "Well, more difficult for you because you loved him and he was your friend."  
  
Viago starts rubbing Nick's back now. He's relieved that the younger vampire isn't pushing him away but he's still unable to look at Viago.  
  
"How about you boys come inside instead of sulking here on my window sill? I reckon you both could use a cup of tea."  
  
"Tea is just hot water to us vampires," Nick grumbles under his breath as he stops leaning on her long enough to adjust his position.  
  
"Oh, so you just told Katherine about...that..."  
  
Gods damn Nick! It wasn't his secret to tell! This man is so infuriating at times. How does it become so easy for him not to hide, not to be afraid, not to think the rest of the world would hate him for being a vampire?  
  
In that moment, Viago understood why Deacon resented Nick. But then he also remembers what Petyr said, that Nick was their 'baby'.  
  
And what parent would wish for their own progeny to suffer the same prejudices and struggles of their time? Shouldn't they encourage Nick more and appreciate what he has to teach them as well?  
  
Viago feels uncertain all of a sudden as he balances his weight on the air and keeps a few paces of distance from the two. He longs to hold Katherine in his arms and confess to her how much he had loved her for so long, but he also wants to tell Nick he isn't as alone as they had made him feel since he turned, that he's family and family will never forsake each other.  
  
So many emotions swirl on his head, filling it with lead. He almost chokes.  
  
"You know," Katherine peers curiously at him from behind her spectacles. The sound of her voice soothes him in an instant. "I've always known you have more secrets in you than most men, Viago."  
  
Her face has transformed due to old age with her voice sounding brittle as her pale, wrinkled hands. The brown locks of her wavy hair back in the day have withered now to wisps of white hair. But Viago would still recognize her anywhere. It was all because of that sly smile and the way warmth floods her eyes each time.  
  
Katherine gestures with a right hand for both vampires to come into her window. They follow her inside until Viago is standing at the center of the well-lit room. Nick, however, has some trouble slipping in; he's still getting a hang of fitting his body into windows. They patiently wait until he's all the way in.  
  
"So," the younger vampire decides to speak up first so as not to call attention to that awkwardness, "I, uh, feel like maybe I should leave you two alone. Viago has a lot of catching up to do with his ex, I reckon."  
  
If he could blush, Viago would have already. Instead, he hits Nick on his foream.  
  
"What? What was that for?"  
  
But Katherine chuckles as she remarks, "We weren't like that at all. Viago is just a very good friend of mine."  
  
"But you must have known how he felt about you, right? He's still got--ow! He still keeps the locket--would you stop hitting me, Vi, 'the hell?"  
  
"The locket?" Katherine turns her attention on Viago, smiling more widely, "You have kept it all this time? Oh, you sweet man."  
  
She reaches out to cup his cheek now, rubbing her thumb across the skin; much like she did before when she found him by the creek, tear-stained and cannot bear alone the immortality ahead.  
  
Slowly, Viago wraps his own hand on hers resting on his face. The other takes another one of her hands and places it on his chest where a heart might no longer beat but his love for her still bleeds. The dandy vampire stares deeply into her eyes as he murmurs, "Please, Katherine. Start a new life with me. ʟɪᴠᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ."  
  
Nick senses he really shouldn't be here watching this so he mutters, "I'm gonna--I'll, uh...maybe just..."  
  
With no real option, he decides to go to a corner in the room and examine a painting on the wall rather intensely, like he's become an art critic.  
  
The interval of silence seems to last more than it should as Viago and his lost love stand there facing one another, as honest as they're both ever going to get. The long years have etched their mark on Katherine's face while Viago's own were more of scars than wrinkles, concealed only by his cursed youth.  
  
"Viago, my dearest friend," she brings the other hand now to touch him on another cheek, as if she meant for her fingers to memorize the detail of his face.  
  
She adds, "I cannot do that. To live like you. And here's why...will you listen to me as I tell you of the life I've had since we were separated?"  
  
"Yes," he doesn't even hesitate, even though his heart just broke all over again when she refused to be with him for the second time.

 

 

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	9. Chapter 9

 

 

**Part IX. In which Deacon and Viago learn to see eye-to-eye.**

 

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1̲9̲5̲5̲  
  
  
Deacon woke up that night in one of the canals of the city of Wellington. The smell was putrid, and it burrowed into his secondhand clothes from victims with a filthiness he knew had to be fumigated and not simply scrubbed. But it wasn't up to him to worry about it because they had the twins specifically to do menial tasks like that.  
  
The twins in question were Sage and Rose, Norwegian sisters who emigrated two years ago and have been caught in a small strife between zombies and other vampires. Vlad had "rescued" them, but only because he had an intention to share them with Deacon, Petyr and Viago so they could eat the twins together. That original plan was then discarded as soon Sage pleaded to turn them into familiars instead.  
  
They all agreed to that arrangement for different reasons. Vlad, at this point, has developed something of a conscience, given that he's been a little vulnerable after his hopefully definitive breakup with the toxic Pauline. He also made everyone in the flat call her the Beast hence.  
  
Meanwhile, Viago acquiesce because he thought it was far more efficient to have little helpers to maintain the integrity of their household. It was also no secret that he had always preferred the platonic company of women, since he was raised by his sisters and was most probably missing that dynamic. Training the twins certainly got his mind off that Katherine woman at least.  
  
As for Deacon, it simply made no difference to him to live in a crowded home. He grew up with twelve other siblings, with the addition of two uncles and their own set of five children each. Having two more live-in familiars in their midst barely made him bat an eye. And, besides, he had always wanted to try and turn humas into vampires.  
  
Deacon walks back to the flat by himself, dragging his weight as if it offended him. The city is already packed with young people heading out for drinks with their friends. Jazz music is playing somewhere, and everyone seems lively and eager to participate. It shouldn't be a surprise; ten years ago there was a war, and everyone thought the fascists would win. And now here they are, not under that regime.  
  
And Deacon himself is fucking done with those Nazi cunts. Unappreciative sack of shits, the lot of them.  
  
As he strolls the city, he feels a bit wrought from whatever he did the other night yet still quite full as far as his bloodlust was concerned. He reaches home safe and sound in no time, and with everyone else waking up.  
  
"I got news," Vladislav greets him with a nod as soon as he walks in the hallway where he spots the older vampire dragging a dead man across the floor. The corpse looked unrecognizable, most probably since it was maimed and tortured. Human bodies are so easy to destroy like that.  
  
"What news?" Deacon looks around to check if either sister is nearby. Seeing as they're not, he decides to help out Vlad for himself by grabbing the corpse's bruised legs.  
  
The older vampire guides the way with his back facing the direction they're headed to. He answers, "It's Viago's birthday. I think we should throw him a party, no? Something small and intimate. Maybe we can take him to the pub. Remember that place? Drunkard son of the host was stupid enough to invite us in one time."  
  
"I remember. Have you been back since?"  
  
"Yeah, every other Thursday," Vlad reaches the staircase leading to the basement where Petyr's tomb is found, "Not many people. Maybe six or eight on a good night. I can handle hyptonizing them, but it has to be one-on-one."  
  
Deacon frowns at the reminder of his friend's depleting powers of persuasion. He's heard countless stories of Vlad's stellar reputation from long ago in another continent. The influence and rampant horror he has spread in Europe made Deacon rather starry-eyed when he first crossed paths with the infamous Poker three decades ago somewhere in France. What are the odds they'd meet again here in New Zealand? Well, Vlad actually invited him to live here out of pity and hospitality.  
  
And now he can't help but feel sorry for the husk Vlad has been reduced to.  
  
Women just ruin everything, don't they? They come into a respectable sadist's life, make him believe he has found the soulmate (who enjoys unraveling the intestines of peasants during winter for sport as much as he does), and then all of a sudden she drives a lamp post through his arse. What a whore, that Pauline.  
  
"A party is always a treat for me. In my family before, we celebrate birthdays all the time. We eat more from the rations, and Papa would let us drink ale. It was great," Deacon carefully walks down the steep path of the stairs as he follows Vlad who disappears into the semi-darkness of the room the more he descends, "But Viago was a rich boy, so maybe he wants something more extravagant? I don't know. You and him are friends, so you'll know better."  
  
He and Petyr came later to this country after the whole Auschwitz incident (a very ugly escape; most days Deacon is still pissant about it). This also meant he hasn't exactly talked that much to Viago in the last eight years of living in the flat, mainly because they seem to have nothing in common aside from their dietary needs. And Viago just puts off Deacon in general since he reeks of high-class education, elitism and vanity that someone as dirt-poor as the latter growing up was just naturally repellent of.  
  
Vlad goes quiet for a while as he busies himself finding the tomb and positioning the corpse directly in front of it. Finally, he responds, "I think he just needs to be coaxed into the idea of a party. He's still sad about his woman, you know. Like me."  
  
A pregnant pause follows before he adds a revelatory: "So maybe I need this too."  
  
Neither man is particularly sentimental so they merely allow another interval of silence to pass as their way of respecting the emotionally charged moment that had just happened. This is while they still carry the dead man between them like some sort of wet rag.  
  
"Okay, we'll do it then," Deacon breaks it first, "Everyone in this flat should celebrate something at least. Viago's birthday is as good a start as any."  
  
Both of them drop the corpse on the ground and didn't bother sticking around to watch Petyr consume the leftovers. All they hear as they leave is the tomb's heavy lid moving slowly, and crunching sounds echoing in the darkness.  
  
"I'll tell the girls to prepare. Buy those funny hats, you know. Some streamers. Dunno about cake since human food all taste the same now," Deacon gives suggestions right after they reach the top of the stairs, "And you go ahead and make your case with that guy."  
  
"I really don't think he needs that much convincing," Vlad gives Deacon a hopeful look, "Viago doesn't say much, but I know that his own routine is starting to drive him insane. He isn't always the prim and proper type, you know. The man has indulged before."  
  
He pauses then grins suggestively, "You'll soon find out."  
  
Deacon is skeptical but decides to take Vlad's word of it all the same. From what he recalls, the two older vampires had met right around the time Vlad and Pauline almost got married. This was in 1901, when the power couple also decided to migrate to a smaller country and build an empire (it never happened; they cut losses and every now and then would still try to kill each other). Meanwhile, Viago arrived five years later via nautical vessel where his familiar sneaked his coffin into. That was how Deacon brought Petyr with him too although their travel isn't exactly smooth sailing.  
  
And so the two men go their separate ways to do their own part for this spontaneous birthday party.

 

  
  
  
✶✶✶

 

  
  
  
Sage and Rose have done their duties faithfully in the last two years. They never complained or ask for anything more than the promise of eternal youth and immortality. They're only nineteen after all, and for them death is something to be avoided, even escaped from altogether. Deacon could tell that although a strong part of them was terrified of the vampires, they also coveted the freedom and powers. Rose, in particular, can be adventurous and pleasure-seeking.  
  
In a pinch, it was nice to have human girls available to fuck as well whenever the men are bored. The sisters weren't exactly virgins when they came to New Zealand; that was one of the first things that made them less appealing. Through Vlad and Deacon's guidance, they flourished sexually, emboldened by the attention their masters spoiled them with from time to time.  
  
Now Deacon had always preferred Rose more because she talked a lot about nothing and anything which translates into the bedroom, making her a very vocal girl. He liked to hear a woman pay him compliments when he's rooting her good.  
  
Sage, meanwhile, is more reserved, a timid girl who often wore garments that do not flatter her body (whilst Rose is always the fashionable one). Vlad is able to coax her from her shell every time they tango under the sheets at least, but for the most part Sage barely interacted with anyone at the flat, not even with her sister. She mostly attended to the chores Viago would assign her.  
  
It was nine o'clock when Vlad and the girls went by themselves first to the pub agreed on so that they can decorate and spruce up the place (and hypnotize the owners and patrons to leave). That would take at least a good hour. Deacon had faith in Vlad's abilities even though the older vampire seemed to be losing his touch.  
  
Before Vlad left, he assured Deacon that Viago has already acquiesced, so all he had to do now was to bring the dandy to the pub around quarter past eleven. This meant that the two were by themselves in the flat. A conversation would be unavoidable. Neither man is particularly eager for it, however.  
  
Eight years is a long time not to talk often, if at all, true, but Deacon would go out almost every night since or would simply hang around Vlad, aiding him in the torture chamber. He and Viago never really have interactions with just the two of them because Vlad and Petyr were there too during group hunts.  
  
This time it's different.  
  
Half an hour passes.  
  
"You like to read books," is the very first thing Deacon decided to say then as soon as he spotted Viago sitting on the couch with a thick tome open upon his lap. The truth was he would have posed that into a question, but instead he made the dumbest and most obvious observation.  
  
"Ja," Viago blinks up at him as he brushes his palm across the page with such tenderness, "And do you read books too, Deacon?"  
  
"No," he takes a seat next to the other and stretches his legs over the table. His muddy boots instantly leave tracks on the surface, "I never learned to read."  
  
Viago looks upset about something, given the way he's staring intently at Deacon's feet, but all he says is, "Would you like me to teach you one of these days?"  
  
"Should you?" Deacon's tone sounded half-challenging, half-amused, "Why bother? Will it help when I hunt and kill for food?"  
  
"There should be more to eternity than survival," the older vampire turns his gaze to the book he's reading, "Don't you think it would make the long years more bearable so long as there is art that you can hang up on walls to admire? Or poetry you can escape to when things don't make sense? And ah!"  
  
Viago smiles as he raises a hand and starts gesturing, mimicking a conductor in front of an orchestra, "There's also always music! For me, it is the best self-expression made through an instrument--when words fail or don't seem to be enough to capture how one feels. Don't you agree, Deacon?"  
  
And the younger vampire only shrugs, trying to act as if this conversation meant nothing to him when the truth was that he found himself easily affected by the things Viago had just said. There is no way he will reveal that he does erotic dancing on occasion and had recently picked up knitting. Those are private pursuits he'd rather keep to himself.  
  
He moves slightly away from his spot on the couch and deflects, "Seems wasteful. The only things I really care about is where I eat, sleep and fuck."  
  
"Oh?" Viago regards him curiously, which is also mixed with some suspicion, "From what I can see, you already got all three covered since you moved in. You're fairly young, yes? Only under a hundred and hardly even close to it too..." He closes his book and turns his body towards Deacon as he adds, "Trust me, after a few more centuries, you'll start seeking for something else other than those trivial functions you seem to believe are all you ought to have."  
  
"Piss off, will you?" Deacon retorts, surprising himself that he responded with snark. There was just something about the way Viago lectured him that he didn't appreciate. It only reminded Deacon of how often belittled and uneducated he felt next to the bourgeois vampires and their stupid little hobbies.  
  
"I'm merely expressing concern. You should pay more attention to what you're feeding your mind and soul as opposed to the next vein you can sink your fangs into."  
  
Deacon rises to his feet all of a sudden, glaring at Viago as he spits out, "And there it is! You think I'm a tactless oaf, don't you? A disgraced former Nazi vampire who can't read and philosophize or get into long-term relationships or ever see the sunrise again!"  
  
"No, Deacon, please! Calm down!" The dandy vampire raises up both hands. His expression was apologetic enough that Deacon almost wants to overlook this disagreement. Almost.  
  
"Look, I only came here because of Vladislav's invitation, okay? There was nowhere else for me and Petyr to go, and no one else who would take us in. So here we are!" He crosses his arms and announces that in a haughty tone, "So, /Lord/ von Grossenhymen, as far as I'm concerned, you don't have to like me, and we don't have to be friends either!"  
  
That sounded like the best way to end this discussion, so Deacon turns away next, ready to make a dramatic exit (by perhaps turning into a bat too). But then Viago pulls him roughly by the arm, using Deacon's own momentum to make him halt. This causes both of them to collapse back onto the couch with Deacon's back pressing against Viago's chest. The table is pushed aside as the book falls to the floor with a hollow thud.  
  
"Let me go--"  
  
"But I already like you very much, Deacon!" Comes Viago's hurried answer. He has his arms wrapped around the younger vampire by his waist, like a child clutching onto her favorite teddy bear, afraid to ever let go. That image both unsettles and breaks Deacon's heart.  
  
Thrashing, he demands, "I said let me go, idiot! I'm trying to make a point here..."  
  
"I didn't mean to upset you," Viago sniffs as his hold tightens.  
  
Wait...is he crying?  
  
"Hey," Deacon stops wiggling long enough to glance over his shoulder, "Could you not do that? It's...supposed to be your birthday, and Vlad and I want a party so...you need to show up and preferably not crying. Please, Viago."  
  
Viago sniffs again and buries his face on the crook of Deacon's shoulder, saying, "I just thought that maybe I can help you be happy. Poems and music have brought so much difference to my life these days, and so I wanted to share them with you. That's what friends are supposed to do. And I am your friend, Deacon! I promise I'll try harder, okay? Just please..."  
  
More muffled now, he cries into the now drenched spot of Deacon's shirt, "...don't leave me too."  
  
And the younger vampire panics.  
  
"What kind of bullshit is that?" Deacon manages to wrench himself free from Viago's iron hold at long last but, instead of walking away, he just faces the dandy vampire with wide eyes and a sympathetic expression. He grabs Viago by his forearms and breathlessly declares, "I'm not exactly going anywhere! I'm a war criminal, and only you and Vlad want me around."  
  
As soon as Deacon has taken hold of him, Viago begins rubbing his eyes, most probably because he is embarrassed to be seen crying, this grown man who is also a vampire with super strength and immortality. Of course it was ridiculous! Deacon should laugh at his face. He had made fun of other men, vampires and humans alike, for less, so why not humiliate Viago too?  
  
"Look, okay, listen," he goes down to his knees before the dandy vampire and begins rubbing his shoulders to soothe him, "I know you might think I'm only being nice right now because it's your birthday but...I don't know, maybe that's the only reason."  
  
Viago nods meekly and then stares at Deacon with a forced smile, "No, it's all my fault. There's no need to apologize. I was out of line, I see that now."  
  
"What?" Deacon frowns, displeased by how Viago was quick to degrade himself for the sake of resolving the conflict, "No, you arse! We were both wrong. Me especially. I just reacted like a real big oaf, and you couldn't have known how...touchy I can be about those topics. So, I'm really sorry, Vi."  
  
To both his surprise and relief, Viago chuckles and beams as if everything is instantly forgiven already. "I really like that. Thanks, Deacon."  
  
Deacon just stares, prompting Viago to elaborate.  
  
"That name you blessed me with. Sofia used to call me that. She was my younger sister," the dandy examines his hands, citing with the softest of tones, "She died of dysentry a while back. I was there throughout the night to help her ease into eternal rest."  
  
"Oh," Deacon swallows a lump in his throat. He hates talking about family especially when he knows one by one he will never see any of his siblings again. So, all he says is, "I had sex with a sister once."  
  
Viago half-chokes, half-laughs, "Deacon! That's disgusting! And rightfully so!"  
  
"I know, I know!" Deacon rubs the back of his head, almost shyly, "Wasn't even that good. She was also a bit ugly."  
  
And Viago erupts with laughter before he slaps Deacon repeatedly on his chest and shoulder for making such a nasty remark that amused him anyway. Deacon finds himself joining in too.  
  
Afterwards the two men stare at each other with dazed, smiling expresions. For the first time in the eight years since Deacon started living in Wellington, he feels truly at home. He staggers back to his feet next and offers both hands for Viago to take.  
  
"Come on, Vi," he tells his new friend, "Let's head to the pub and celebrate your birthday."

 

 

 

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	10. Chapter 10

 

 

  
**parт х. ιn wнιcн vlad arrιveѕ тo a ѕтarтlιng conclυѕιon.**

 

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1̲9̲5̲5̲  
  
Vlad looks across the now deserted pub and finds that the ambience of the place will do just fine for the planned festivities of the night. Well, he never plans anything. This was a last-minute thing he hopes Viago can appreciate. In the last fifty or so years, his flatmate has become mildly important to him.  
  
The twins had also scrubbed down whatever needed scrubbing and hung colorful streamers across tables and behind the bar near the top-shelf booze. Vlad stands there with his hands on his hips as he continues to survey the place. He still possessed that medieval aristocracy in his gait, with his shoulders squared and eyes steady upon the prize.  
  
"It's pristine, right? Or at least pristine enough?" He asks Sage first who nods once without saying a word. She wore a plain brown blouse, buttoned all the way to the top to cover her neck, which bore a few bite marks from previous feedings.  
  
He liked Sage as a familiar and occasional bed companion. Her unassuming behavior on the outside conceals a rather wild woman whom he was able to unleash after a few times he had bedded her. She stands next to Vlad now, as mousy as ever, but she looks comfortable enough and has ceased shrinking from his touch unlike before.  
  
Meanwhile, her peppy sister Rose was dressed in garish pink with ribbons, like a woman masquerading as a doll. She had a few comments to make about the pub's presentation, comments Vlad didn't specifically ask for but listened to nonetheless.  
  
"We should turn on more lights and play actual music of this era, and not the same Italian opera over and over. I know Mr. Viago likes that, but it's not something we can dance to And yes! There should be dancing. You three can take turns with us."  
  
Normally, or at least back in the old days, Vlad would just grab an implement and shove it up her arse than endure her 'suggestions' to 'improve' things. But that was then. This is now.  
  
He's been living a post-Pauline era, and he's still adjusting to all of it, even if it has been fifty years since.  
  
For Vladislav, the best thing about immortality is also the worst thing.  
  
He had been married to the love of his eternal life for a time, and she matched him in every shade of darkness and shared his bloodlust. There are no poems written to capture a love as grand and twisted as theirs, one that could topple gods and usurp kings for the sake of avarice and insatiable ambition.  
  
They were quite the pair, Vladislav and Pauline. Undying, passionately in love and sexually explosive, they were even at the cusp of ruling the underworld together.  
  
Until one day that love turned into vicious hate, and so the best thing which Vlad has ever considered to be in living forever suddenly became the worst thing he wishes he had gotten rid of a long time ago.  
  
First-world vampire problems aside, this night needs to be special. Freeing himself from the Beast (as he will call his ex from now on) has allowed for him to make room for other things--other worthy individuals.  
  
Speaking of whom!  
  
"Quick! Hide behind that table and then once they open the door, let's all jump out and yell 'surprise'! Got it?"  
  
"But, master," Rose points out, "You vampires can hear our heartbeats. He'll know where we are already even from a mile away."  
  
Vlad glares at the girl, "Okay. Want me to stop your heart first? Because that can be arranged--"  
  
"Truly? How coo--"  
  
"--when I fucking murder you! Now hide under the table!"  
  
He shoves Rose roughly down the biggest table (while Sage followed suit) before he joins them in this useless charade of surprise. Rose is definitely rolling her eyes at him; she's lucky he hasn't gouged them out and sewn them into his hunting gear. (Those were the days).  
  
As soon as the doors open and two men step into the deserted bar, Vlad rises up and, at the last second, transforms into an anaconda. He becomes of large heft instantly, slithering from the table and down the floor to approach his friends with the intent to pretend he will swallow them whole.  
  
It was his idea of a fun joke. He knows the other vampires will appreciate it.  
  
Just as his boneless neck rises up and he opens his jaw to bare out protruded fangs, Deacon shouts some vague obscenity in his own language, which is also immediately followed by:  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with your snake! Your face is all wrong!"  
  
Vlad stops midway from menacingly posing at them so he could inquire, "What do you mean my 'face is all wrong'? I'm a snake! I'm supposed to look like this."  
  
"Yes," Deacon sounds almost worried as he tries to explain the situation, "But your face is not that of a snake. It's just...your face."  
  
Confused, Vlad turns his eyes to Viago, who had been quiet from the moment he got inside the bar. They stare at one another for a few seconds before the dandy vampire smiles and adds, "Vlad, are you feeling okay? Maybe you're just overdoing it. Shapeshifting can have its off-days, ja? Just morph back into you. It's how I like you best anyway."  
  
A look of sympathy crossed Viago's face too when he said that! Would he really dare treat the great Vladislav the Poker like he's just some delicate wounded flower in need of sunlight and water?  
  
Fuck that. The analogy also doesn't even make sense. And why does every glance Viago gives him these days twists something inside Vlad in a way he could never explain?  
  
"No. I'm perfectly fine," the older vampire can feel himself getting irritated. "Besides, it's your birthday, which means that we don't need to talk about anything because I prefer to just drink the night away. The twins brought us a few humans. They're all tied up together in the supply closet."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Deacon is already approaching the bar, "We can try these alcoholic drinks also. I have an idea, actually. Sage, Rosey, why don't you help and fetch a human?"  
  
With Deacon and the girls getting busy with what to drink, this left Vlad and Viago alone. The older vampire insisted on his anaconda form for a while, truly clueless about the recent defect in his morphing abilities. It's only after Viago keeps on giving him that half-sorry, half-amused smile that Vlad decides to shift back to his normal form.  
  
"What?" he eyes the other suspiciously, "Will you stop that! This is supposed to be a nice evening out for all of us."  
  
A pause. "Wait, were you and Deacon okay? I know you two don't exactly have anything in common, but I already told you he's not such a bad guy. Except for the Nazi crap. But we all did crappy things in our past."  
  
There are a few things too he knew about Viago before his unwilling conversion to vampirism. He knew about a sister, the one he sacrificed his humanity for; and that other one who died of dysentery. Of course, there's also Katherine whose photograph in a silver locket Viago hoards and often stares at when he thinks Vlad doesn't know.  
  
Compared to Vlad's exploits of the past, Viago may as well be a saint. He didn't particularly care about the differences though.  
  
"We had an argument," Viago reveals as he looks across the bar to where Deacon was, "But we resolved it. You know, it was really kind of you to let him stay with us. And Petyr too."  
  
There it was again. That tone. Aside from the glances, there was also this new tone the younger vampire uses every time he points out a trivial 'nice' thing Vlad has done.  
  
"I did it out of whim, not kindness," Vlad's answer was a tad dismissive, "I was getting sick of the two of us in that big damn flat."  
  
Especially since Pauline left. Since Pauline broke his heart. Shattered his spleen. Gorged him with a pole right in the rectum. His sweet, breathtaking, infuriating, murderous /Beast/.  
  
"I need a fucking drink," he suddenly turns away just in time as the twins brought in an unconscious human. Without preamble, he hisses then sinks his fangs onto the tender flesh of the human's neck. The girls had to hold onto the victim as tightly as they could to keep the body from falling to the ground due to the strength in which the former Poker is presently ravaging it with.  
  
Vlad pretends he doesn't feel Viago's concerned eyes upon him. He knows he should be nicer since it was the bloke's birthday, but he hasn't been in the most jovial of moods since Pauline.  
  
Pauline. Pauline. Pauline. Fuck her. He wishes he could fuck her. Right now!  
  
"Give me another human," he demands from Sage who complies in silence and heaves another semi-alive prey towards Vlad whilst Rose is carefullu laying down the drained one moments ago. At this point, the sisters accepted this savagery as their new normal.  
  
"Save some for the rest of us," Deacon is holding a bottle as he walks over to them, "And I think Vi should get the biggest share since this is his special night."  
  
Vlad grimaces, especially with that unexpected god-awful nickname. "Since when did you two suddenly become best friends?"  
  
"Okay," Viago folds his hands together, his voice firm, "May I please speak to you in private, Vladislav?"  
  
He would have gnashed his fangs and protested but decides it would be pitifully childish. That was Deacon's thing after all. And Vlad was the eldest of the group and therefore has to save face.  
  
"Look, I know I'm acting like a real jerk," he's already speaking while he follows Viago to a secluded corner, "And I really should make it less about me and more about you. But I'm not really good about that. It takes me a while. I struggle when others get the spotlight because I feel entitled to it, you know? And also--" he stiffens as soon as Viago wraps him in an embrace.  
  
"What are you doing? What is this?" He almost wants to wriggle free.  
  
With his voice muffled because his face is buried on Vlad's left shoulder, Viago explains, "I thought you could use a hug. I gave Deacon one earlier and it did wonders."  
  
This was bizarre. Not disagreeable, per se, just plain weird.  
  
"So you just give out hugs unprompted? Is that it?" Although there's annoyance in his tone, Vlad doesn't actually disentangles himself from the dandy vampire's hold. It felt as nice as the sentiment behind it. What is wrong with him? Since when has sentiment ever mattered to the great Vladislav the Poker? He'd shit on it, if given a chance. So why hasn't he done it now?  
  
"Thank you for the surprise party," Viago pulls slightly away so he could stare at Vlad, "You're nothing like what I've expected," he pauses to dab his thumb across the corners of Vlad's blood-stained lips, "And since living with you, I can safely say I never would have thought that a single meeting between us that night here in Wellington would yield such a fantastic friendship."  
  
The younger vampire loosens his embrace until his hands migrate to the other man's waist instead, "Do you recall?"  
  
Of course Vlad does. The memory was as fresh as everything else. But he doesn't say anything. How could he, when Viago's nearness is so nice that it distracted him from everything else? They are of the same height and almost the same build, but the other man likes to douse himself in fragrances that are subtle yet still very pleasant. Vlad can smell that on his collar, and it instantly makes him pull back.  
  
"Okay! Time for drinking!" Mercifully enough, Deacon's loud announcement breaks Vlad from this small enchantment. He then angles his body away from Viago in an attempt to walk back to the middle of the bar.  
  
"We should get you a human," he manages to mutter towards his friend, "I know you've been drinking less since this year began. And it's not safe. Hunger pangs can be a bitch."  
  
Viago's eyes glint, matching his toothy smile, "You would know! You've been torturing and bleeding people less too, Vlad. I'm the one who should be worried because that's out of character for you."  
  
He wanted to say something about his most recent captive which he had just disposed of earlier this evening by leaving it outside of Petyr's tomb. Boy, did Vlad do a number on that poor bastard. But he barely enjoyed the process, true enough. It just hasn't been the same since.  
  
"Well, maybe I'm trying something new," the older vampire shoots back instead. He doesn't want to point out that Viago was still holding him by the waist, so he just brushes his hands on the other man's to get the message across so he'd let go.  
  
"If you want to talk about it," the dandy adds, "You know I'll just be here to listen. I can't promise I'll be of much help though since I'm most likely rubbish when it comes to handing out advice but..."  
  
Viago's hands move to grip Vlad by the shoulders. /Thank God and Satan/.  
  
"...but I care about you. And I'll do whatever it takes to get you through this. Heartbreaks are always tough."  
  
"Listen, I don't need to get myself sorted out. My heart is fine."  
  
Deacon, ever the tactful, interrupts their private discussion by saying, "Your arse is not though. Does it still hurt to sit and walk?"  
  
There must be something clearly wrong with him because that very asinine comment was actually a welcome intrusion--anything to get away from Viago.  
  
Rose appears in their line of vision next to put the funny birthday hats on their respective heads. Vlad got a striped yellow and red one while Deacon got a powder blue one with pink flowers. It was Sage, meanwhile, who hands Viago his special hat. It was a paper crown with glittered edges and letters on the surface which spell out, "Birthday Boy". It also made his white suit stand out.  
  
(Why was he wearing /that/? It's blindingly pristine, which Vlad supposed was how Viago likes most things).  
  
"I can wear pants again, but I think I'm getting over them too," Vlad slings his arm around Deacon's shoulder and expects that the other younger vampire would just follow. "I prefer kilts now. I look good in them."  
  
As if on cue, Deacon looks down at what Vlad has been wearing, "You do. I like the color of this one." He sharply glances behind to call out for Viago, "I made this drink where I mixed in blood with bourbon. It's very cool. You should try!"  
  
Vlad ignores the indecipherable feeling on his gut and focuses on making sure this night will be a good one. It's not just about Viago's birthday. This celebration is also a cleansing ritual of some sort that would allow Vlad to finally move on from the devastation that was still unmaking him from within.

 

  
  
✧✦

 

  
  
1̲9̲0̲6̲  
  
  
The polluted waters of the swamp filled his lungs as the Beast held him under. He thrashed and kicked but each hit was a miss. Finally, he morphed into a scorpion and slipped under her garments where he struck his stinger right onto her left tit.  
  
Beast howled and hastily grabbed at his form and threw him back into the swamp. By then Vlad was normal-sized again and he swam towards the woman to throttle her with his hands. The fingers trembled in fury as soon as they closed around her pale throat.  
  
This was their seventh confrontation for this year alone. In grand total so far, they had tried to murder each other twenty-nine times already. Some attempts were more grueling, elaborate. They had set death traps, plunged many steel objects through one another's bodies. They tried to raise armies but found that the paranormal population of New Zealand was far too scarce for a war of such scale, and for a purpose everyone has unanimously agreed was ever foolish.  
  
But it didn't discourage either of them. In the twenty-nine attempts, five of them ended up in brutal sex. Tonight was not going to be one of those, apparently. Vlad could tell by the way the Beast was stabbing him in the face with a mammoth's tusk that she intended to end this sick charade once and for all with him being scarred for life.  
  
He transformed as swiftly as he could into a bat the moment the tusk embedded itself deeply into his face. Vlad didn't even notice that although the rest of him was a bat, his facial features remained very much his own with the ivory tip of the tusk protruding from his left eye. It hurt. It hurt like a thousand plagues in one very vulnerable spot.  
  
But it was still nothing compared to the anal invasion from five years ago. That was the ultimate brand of torture which all subsequent pain and humiliation are measured hence.  
  
Flapping frantically, Vlad decided to withdraw and fly into the dark skies whilst the Beast howled his name with the promise of guaranteed annihilation.  
  
He crash-landed into the roof of his new residence, a surprisingly lofty mid-century mansion that he had purchased a year after things with the Beast fell apart. The impact of his small, chiropteran form was cushioned only by rolling downwards until Vlad-bat found himself dangling by the edge. He struggled to hold on. Soon enough he fell to the muddy earth awaiting below.  
  
"Mein gott! What happened!"  
  
Semi-unconscious, Vlad felt someone standing over him. He could only see a shape and the barely discernible features of another man. The lack of pulse made it certain he was probably an undead like Vlad, and the fact that he did not reek ruled out zombie. So, another vampire, possibly.  
  
"Is that silver?" This man inspected the tusk burrowed deep into Vlad's eye, "Oh, wait, it's some sort of horn, isn't it? Who would do this?"  
  
Vlad used what was left of his energy to morph back into his normal size again.  
  
"Alright, Herr, let me take care of you for a bit. Try and sit up! That's it! Now--hold onto me. Hi--here we go!"  
  
Out of consideration, Vlad tried not to lean all of his weight against this helpful stranger, although the desire to just collapse was rather overwhelming.  
  
After some difficulty, the other vampire was able to carry Vlad inside his home and lay him down the nearest sofa in the common room.  
  
"We need to attend to your wounds," the stranger said. He must mean the other scratches and stab wounds around his person. Vlad can't help but hate himself for putting on his favorite garments tonight. He knew they have been torn to shreds at this point, and they were truly irreplaceable.  
  
"Start with..." He cleared his throat and then clarified his next instruction, "Start with this shitty tusk on my eye. Pull it out."  
  
"That's not...I don't think we should touch that part until we assess the extent of the nerve damage--"  
  
"We heal and regenerate! Why the fuck would you worry about that? Nerve damage? Are /you/ insane?"  
  
He grabbed onto what he assumed were the other man's lapels, "Take it out! NOW! It has to go or I swear I will rip your head off and fuck the skull!"  
  
There was an interval silence before he feels a slight pressure on that punctured eye. Without warning whatsoever, the stranger pulled out the tusk in one go.  
  
"MARY BLEEDING IN HER QUIM, THAT HURTS!"  
  
"You asked for it," came the other man's prompt reply, "You should not be so rude next time."  
  
Vlad tried to blink away the blood oozing from the hole where his eyeball used to be, intact and useful. Gnashing his fangs, he growled, "That fucking bitch! First my arse and now my eye! I should cut off her tits and burn a poker through her tongue! See how she likes being in so much pain like this!"  
  
"She? A woman have committed these atrocities?"  
  
"Oh, she's no ordinary woman! She's a Beast!"  
  
Another interval of silence passed before the stranger inquired in a half-scolding, half-expectant tone, "She's a former lover, isn't she?"  
  
Vlad didn't care to dignify that with an answer and merely huffed as he pressed a palm over his gaping eye socket. The sofa underneath him cradled him well enough, particularly his bum which was still sore. Five years have passed since the love of his life impaled him, yet she left a permanent mark in a place where it counts most. What a bitch.  
  
"Don't do that to your eye. It's very...unsanitary," the man was undoing his collar to use the knotted fabric as a tourniquet. Vlad didn't protest as the stranger began to wrap it around his head as a temporary bandage.  
  
"You know," he said, "I think that tusk is enchanted with witch's magic. I say it because you should be healing by now. And you aren't."  
  
Scoffing at that, Vlad only says, "I'm not surprised that she would resort to that kind of trick. She did the same thing to my anus. Did I mention that?"  
  
"In passing, yes," the other vampire was now rubbing his shoulder in a soothing manner. It wasn't terrible or unwelcome either, but Vlad remained wary. It was hard to only stare at someone using one eye whilst still recovering from the pain of losing another, but he did his best to make due.  
  
"You're new here. Is this the first time you've been to the country?"  
  
"Yes," the man answered, "My name is Viago von Grossenhymen. I grew up in Austria and was turned there. I came here because..." he shook his head then withdrew his hands, "Well, it doesn't matter now. That was two weeks ago and I think it's important that I move on."  
  
Luckily for this Viago, Vlad has no intention of sniffing around his personal business, so he asked instead, "Where have you been staying? And how did you get here to my mansion?"  
  
"Cheap motels in Wellington," Viago explained, "And, actually, I was made aware from town listings that you wanted to rent out a few floors of this place to potential flatmates. Is that correct?" There was a hopeful smile on his face already.  
  
"Sure," Vlad replied, "If you are interested, we can talk percentage. You're a vampire like me and that's high on my list of qualifications. I don't like mingling with other supernatural folk especially banshees and werewolves."  
  
Viago nodded, still smiling, "So when can the lodgings be arranged? I take it after you have rested? That wound would require serious magical attention...although I think I know a quick way to get you regenerating again in no time."  
  
Now Vlad was listening more closely, "You know any witches that can assist?"  
  
"Um," the other vampire shifted from his seat, "I was thinking along the lines of bloodletting. On a few occasions my sire had gotten badly injured from hunters, so he would drink my blood and...another's to recuperate his strength and help with the healing process."  
  
Vlad has heard of this practice before. "It might work," he remarked, "I may not be your sire, but I'm obviously older by a few centuries."  
  
"You haven't told me your name, Herr."  
  
"Don't call me that, for one thing. And it's Vlad. I used to live somewhere in Eastern Europe. I was a count or duke, I don't remember anymore," he scratched around the bondage over his eye as he added, "I'm affluent, so I still have treasures to support my indulgent lifestyle. If you need money, I'll lend you, but only because we are going to live together from now on."  
  
"Really?" This vampire had a child-like quality about him that Vlad hoped he could get used to soon, "Just like that then? We'll be flatmates?"  
  
"You helped me so far. You don't seem like a dick. And now you are going to let me drink your blood. The least I could do is provide you some roof over your head, no?"  
  
Now that they got the introductions out of the way and finalized the lodgings, Vlad inched closer to the other man. As if expecting this, Viago's demeanor softened to the point of relaxation as he angled his body to accommodate Vlad, who now pressed some of his weight against the other man's body.  
  
"So I just..." He tugged at the already unbuttoned collar.  
  
"Yes, yes...allow me!" Viago turned his head to the side to expose the flesh of his neck.  
  
With only one eye open, he struggled a bit with the angle until he let his hand cradle Viago on the nape for support while the other was placed on the other man's knee. He then sunk his fangs slowly onto that spot of his neck. As soon as he punctured through, the blood seeped into his mouth, filling him with the rush of delicious copper that was unlike human blood in its headiness of taste.  
  
"Hmmm," Viago grabbed onto Vlad's own garments to steady himself while the older vampire drank from him. His other knee pressed against Vlad's abdomen when he shifted from his position at once. Vlad knew better, so he allowed the other vampire to rut against his heat as they share this undeniably erotic moment.  
  
Bloodletting was akin to penetrative sex that way after all. It was why a few vampires had indulged in it for centuries.  
  
If he wasn't so sore and beaten after that round at the swamps with the Beast, Vlad would have gladly pushed this handsome, well-groomed German stranger to the floor and claim him already. Instead, he just imagined aligning himself between the man's legs and delving as deep as he could go, but using the fangs on his neck as substitute to fulfill that aching pleasure he was imagining. With light telepathy, he then projected that image into Viago's own mind.  
  
In response, the younger vampire let out a small moan and rocked his hips against Vlad as if to grant him permission.  
  
Vlad had to remind himself again foremost the purpose of this bloodletting to begin with, and after a few more minutes in which Viago fumbled at his torn garments whilst Vlad himself massaged him too close to his upper thigh, the two men disentangled at last.  
  
They regained their composure and exchanged a few more pleasantries and queries as if this interaction was normal again. The prelude to what could have been good sex was soon put aside (though not entirely forgotten)  
  
"Look," Viago carefully inspected the wound under the bandage, "I think it's working. It's begun healing."  
  
"Yes, thanks for the help," Vlad wasn't adept with gratitude. Should he fuck Viago one of these days to properly express it? That sounds about right. Even with one eye, Vlad knew the other vampire was attractive...in that high-society, classic patrician sort of way. Not his usual type when it came to men, but that certain softness to Viago was charming too, he supposed.  
  
"Can I say something? About what happened between you and this woman?"  
  
Vlad just looked at him blankly. It was a warning as well, for the other man to trek very cautiously if he wished to explore that territory.  
  
"Well," Viago cleared his throat and interlaced his fingers together, "It sounds very abusive, what you two have."  
  
"That's the point of any ugly break-up. But since she and I are very old and very strong, it turns into this dance to the death. A death match, if you may." He then waved his hand to dismiss whatever Viago could say about it, "I don't expect you to understand. Love and hate operate on the same levels of intensity when it comes to soulmates like me and her obviously are. I've learned to cope in my own way, and so had she."  
  
Viago shrugged his shoulders, "I just think you deserve more. It seems to me that to trivialize something so unhealthy out of passivity or convenience only does more damage that goes beyond the wounds you have in your body."  
  
"I'd prefer it if you mind your own business, Viago," Vlad crossed his arms over his chest, "This thing I have with the Beast is off-limits. I get to decide how I handle it."  
  
"The violence between you two will continue to escalate," the younger vampire remarked, and he almost sounded...sad. "But if you ever need anything from me in the aftermath, such as nurse your wounds or provide you with blood again, then I'll do everything I can to accommodate. But...other than that, you first need to accept the toxicity of your relationship before the real healing will begin."  
  
The younger vampire looked off to the side, "Or you will only keep hurting in ways that no eyes can see; suffer quietly in ways the mind could not grasp."  
  
Vlad's expression changed into real incredulity. He could not come up with a counter argument at all. The silence that has passed between the two men felt tense and sacred all at once. It was like there were no more secrets to hoard and that kind of exposure further worsened Vlad's discomfort. This was why he loathed talking about feelings.  
  
No song or poem in the world could ever fathom the deftness of his pain when he lost Pauline--that immeasurable love that used to be the best thing about becoming an immortal vampire for Vlad. The worst thing about it was that he has shared everything with her once and never felt so alive. And with her gone he couldn't feel any more dead than he does now.  
  
And so fighting her at present, trying to maim, torture and kill her, were ways to preserve what they had even if it meant madness and strife.  
  
A full minute of reprieve has passed, and he knew he has to say something to this insightful stranger who seems to posses the capacity to scratch the surface of what Vlad doesn't want uncovered.  
  
So he did. "You barely even know me."  
  
"That's going to change, no doubt," A hopeful smile crossed Viago's lips, "...once we start living together."  
  
Vlad found himself smiling too. And then he felt a twinge somewhere in his chest. What was that? It's probably one of the wounds the Beast inflicted earlier tonight. Yes, that's it. Nothing more.  
  
"So...there's an available room here on the ground floor right across the kitchen, to the left side. Or, if you're more of a recluse, then you can have the basement instead."  
  
Viago looked around, appreciative in his inspection, "I'll browse through the rooms before I select one, if you don't mind. And oh! How should we divide the chores?"  
  
Vlad was in the middle of unlacing his boots when he heard that. He stared at the other man, "Chores? I don't know. We get slaves? Another flatmate? Who the fuck cares, Viago..."  
  
It was not something the older vampire has ever considered before.  
  
"Don't worry about it!" Viago helped Vlad to stand so he could guide him upstairs, "Just get some rest. I'll figure something out for the both of us soon. And I might leave you for a bit to fetch my coffin, if you don't mind. Are you going to be okay?"  
  
"Do that, yes," he muttered, barely paying attention at this point, "I'm going to be fine. Just take me to my chambers."  
  
All he wanted to do was pass out and wake up with a brand new eye, hopefully. And maybe even a change of heart. His perspective about his situation with his ex has certainly grown.  
  
All thanks to his new flatmate.

 

 

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

 

 

**Part XI. In which Viago learns that eternity is a sum of its pieces that don't always fit because of the jagged edges**

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Birthdays have always been considered a family event at the von Grossenhymen estate. Given that he had four daughters, the patriarch saw it fit to spoil them with gifts and plenty of merrymaking, particularly as soon they came of age. Not only did he sufficiently indulged a daughter's whims during her special day, he was also able to utilize the occasion as a way to formally introduce her to high society. This included the process of selecting from a small pool of potential suitors who can no doubt afford her dowry.

This was how he married his second eldest and third, both of whom had successful marriages to husbands who are accomplished in their fields. 

Of all his girls, Lord von Grossenhymen was most fond of Sofia, the youngest. She had dreams of becoming an opera singer someday, which made sense because her parents were musically-inclined, so it seemed only plausible she would inherit the same passion. Viago, the only son, was a gifted musician too, but so little was expected of him when it came to the patronage of arts. 

Their father's blatant preferential treatment did not escape the other two siblings' notice, but they made the most of the parental neglect in their own respective ways. Elsa had a quiet dignity about her that was at once cold to view and touch, and it turned away any man who would even dare ask her hand for marriage. It wasn't for the lack of trying, for Elsa was beautiful—a venerable Ice Queen though not as appealing as Sofia, who was three more years away from marital eligibility. 

It was a relief then when Elsa was finally married to Jakob Chagal, but not without its unique difficulties. 

Six months into the marriage of his eldest daughter to the Chagal heir, Lord von Grossenhymen has decided to hold a prestigious ball for his son's name-day. He invited everyone who mattered in the inner circle, especially the young women of these families who are close enough to Viago's age and must be compatible to his status of affluence. 

Of course, the dandy himself wasn't completely pleased about the sudden interest on his father's part, but during a dinner last week, the old man declared (in what could be described as cavalier and subtle at the same time) that he wanted to marry everyone off in the family already before at last focusing his precious attention in choosing the rightful bachelor Sofia would become betrothed to someday.

Was Viago shocked to learn that his own marriage prospects were a but a mere afterthought to his lord father, and even comparably insignificant next to his baby sister's own? Most likely not. He's endured enough of their father's favoritism over the years to accept now that there's nothing he could do that could earn the love Lord von Grossenhymen instead chose to bequeath only to Sofia.

But it didn't mean Viago was in a hurry to disclose that there was indeed someone he was amorous with at present, especially since that person was no other than his brother-in-law Jakob.

His father's neutral tolerance was far better than the wrathful denouncement that awaits if he ever learns that his only son was involved in sodomy and homosexual relations on top of an extra-marital affair.

These concerns seemed to be of little importance, however, especially because Jakob Chagal possessed a way about him that can make every other detail blur in the background. Viago has had other bed partners; men and women who fawn over him and also enjoy the secrecy of such activities, but what he shared with said man was tinged in a bitter sweetness that was simply beyond compare. Jakob after all was the one who opened him up to the delights of the flesh, and so it was only rather befitting that he could unlock the mysteries of Viago's heart too.

The ball was inconsequential, though the dandy did his best to put on an act around guests and potential 'brides' whom his father would introduce him to each time a young lady so much as breathes beside their pair. Lord von Grossenhymen didn't let his son out of his sight for most of the night, much to Viago's annoyance, but he had played this role his entire life so, surely, he can keep up the ruse for a few more hours until he has kissed enough hands and feigned lively chat with these women. He certainly put in more effort to be dazzling, which no doubt shocked the patriarch. He didn't know his son could actually manage being sociably enticing to the fairer sex until tonight. But, then again, he was entirely clueless about the extent of Viago's proclivities in the dark, as well as the company he has ravished, including the opulence in which he has fully embraced being a man of virile experiences.

His brother-in-law accosted Viago some time during the night once the grueling part with the matchmaking simmered down. The dandy was on his way upstairs to fetch his father's violin (since Lord von Grossenhymen was convinced by the niece of a business associate to play a piece for the guests) when Jakob pulled him into an empty chamber all of a sudden.

Viago wasn't even able to get a word out before his mouth was devoured instantly. Their hands began to wander soon after, for both men were more than familiar which parts to hold and caress so that the rest of their senses can be lit aflame. Hunger was palpable between them, quenched only by the tearing of fabric and hurried claims upon flesh. His mind's axis tilted sideways which, Viago surmised, always happens when he's kissing Jakob. This unbelievable man was the only one whom he guarded so deep within a crevice in his heart that he might as well have carved a passage that leads to the very soft places Jakob can dwell in. 

As the two men stood together in a perfect place where time didn't exist—with Viago's back pressed against the wall and the curtain beside them billowing as it cascaded over Jakob's form—he could not even imagine ever ending any of it regardless of who gets hurt. There was so much to preserve, including the prickly pressure in his gut, the silly way his throat closes up, as yearning spreads from his chest to his lips once they've latched onto the other man's. 

How can Viago give this up? And will a day ever come that he must? No, that would be awful. Love was not supposed to end, not when it feels like both heaven and hell in equal measure.

"I don't like any of this," Jakob remarked once they've ceased kissing, "What Kurt is doing, parading you around in front of these girls. None of them will ever try reading into your soul the way I could..." he cupped Viago's cheek, "...the way I only can."

And the dandy laughed, overcome with dread and giddiness as he replied, "It doesn't matter, because we at least have small moments like this, and I cherish every single one."

Jakob shook his head. He then nipped at Viago's jaw and chin before he pressed his lips against the side of his neck, whispering, "You deserve more than the fleeting things I give you."

This was not the direction Viago wanted this conversation to go. It was a painful reminder of the borrowed time he had with the other man, and tonight did not have to be the moment they should deal with the unfairness of it all.

And so the dandy cupped his brother-in-law's face with both hands, thumbs molded against cheeks as if to memorize each nuance of emotion that flickered on his expression.

"If nothing else, just remember..." Viago murmured, "I'm in lo—"

One of the maids interrupted just in time and immediately tried to rush out as soon as she witnessed their indiscretion taking place. Jakob said he will deal with her whilst Viago picked up the violin case. The spell between the lovers has worn off, a kind of magic rendered weak by the mere stroke of midnight. And now the dandy must go back downstairs to a world where he must step one foot into, as the other lingered right in the precipice of what he shared with the other man, something he could never declare as his in broad daylight.

But then Jakob grabbed his arm midway as he crossed the threshold of the staircase. He looked at Viago with ease and trepidation as he muttered, "As am I with you, Viago."

The dandy's face lit up as soon as he heard it, and his grip on the violin case tightened in same manner as his chest twinged.

Jakob smiled back and repeated, his tone very hushed as he revealed the most intimate secret: "One day, someday, we will have it all." 

 

 

 

  
✧✦

 

 

 

It was funny, the things the mind can recall during a traumatic event. 

That memory was from three years ago, and whatever he felt for Jakob then has now become as cold as the cobblestone floor where Viago was slammed onto, as he faced a monster of unimaginable greed. It licked the blood from his head wound and swore to spare his brother-in-law's life in exchange of servitude. And Viago traded his freedom away because it was also his best chance to make penance for what he did to Elsa's marriage. He caused her turn to the darkness, and so he must now make it his life's mission to follow her into its clutches.

And as the monster drained him of blood, Viago remembered how Jakob waited for for the ball to end so that he could give the dandy his birthday present. It was a gold ring with an onyx stone, and he wore it on his forefinger every day hence even after things ultimately but mutually ended between them so Jakob can fulfill his duties as a husband. The guilt proved to be too much over time, which came back to bite them (literally, as it turned out) when Elsa uncovered the truth about the affair anyway. 

Such a love like that, heaven and hell in equal measure, was meant to damn more than save.

Viago sobbed as the monster forced him to drink its foul blood, choking on it the entire time even though he knew this was a choice he already made. The sour taste of copper mingled with everything else that bleeds inside him, and he swallowed all of it as best as he could. For Jakob to be out of harm's way. For Elsa to someday forgive him. He swallowed until the poison that was the monster's essence became a tangible part of him, coursing like fire in his veins, turning what was human in him into ash.

Elsa was there hours later. She tossed a drunk barmaid onto his lap and demanded he drank from her to complete his transition into becoming a vampire. He obliged, much to his disgust, and sank his fangs onto the innocent woman's tender flesh. It ruptured so easily as the blood flowed, dark and irresistible. Viago was driven into a frenzy in an instant. He couldn't stop and Elsa certainly didn't try to stop him either.

Once it was over, Viago didn't even care anymore that he had just murdered someone because the high that overcame him next was too surreal and complete that nothing else mattered. He just pushed the dead barmaid off his lap and rose to his feet. Meanwhile, Elsa kept her distance, but when their eyes met he saw something in the way she looked back at him that was the closest thing to affection he has ever gotten from her in years. And it made him smile.

Perhaps this eternity of penance won't be as insufferable after all.

Fifty years passed. Somewhere down that road the siblings have successfully gotten rid off their sire, but not for the lack of a few botched assassinations along the way. But time catches up, even to immortals like them, one way or another.

One day—after seventy-three years later to be exact—Viago woke up from a small nap in his coffin and found Elsa by the balcony. It was five in the morning, which was troubling, considering his sister stood there outside when there's just a mere hour away from the sun rising. Gingerly, he approached and placed his hands on her shoulders before they migrated to frame her waist from behind. 

Elsa no longer stiffens when physical contact between them occurs like this. It took almost a century for her to get used to this arrangement, living on the run with a brother she used to despise. And so she rested her weight against Viago's chest and pulled her head back as soon as her brother bent down to trail kisses across the flesh. From a distance below them, any passerby who would look up could mistake them for a pair of young lovers, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong about it either.

"Is this how you intend to start your birthday with?" she slowly faced him with a questioning half-smile, "With something already wicked in your trousers?"

She then tried to grab his crotch but he deftly avoided it in time. Her fingers only had to graze the fabric of his pants, however, for it to rouse his excitement tenfold. With a swiftness characteristic of their vampiric kind, his fingers closed around her wrists as he threw her back inside the room. Elsa would have been slammed against the nearby wall, but she too used her own speed and ended up pinning him on another wall instead. She laughed, and the sound twisted his gut as if she had tied a string around it, rendering him nothing more but a puny puppet in her hands.

Viago didn't care though. For the first time in their miserable existence as the undead, he and his sister were finally getting along. They were on the same page and willing to explore a new paradigm to the bond they share. So he allowed her the upper hand again and responded to every touch she bequeathed, each one more searing than the last. He quivered with her and pushed back each time she did until they are locked in a dance Elsa led the entire time. He was dragged along for it, and was so caught up in the tiny earthquakes of their bodies that he didn't even notice that the sun has already bathed half of the room in its infernal glow.

His sister was unfazed. She merely shoved him close to the sunlight that his arm has almost caught fire. Panicking, Viago started rolling on the floor on a corner where the sun can't reach him again, and Elsa laughed and laughed before she pinned him down so she can lick the burn marks. This helped him heal faster. He was livid by her recklessness, but he couldn't even say anything about it because she has once more took control of the situation.

"You are blithering mess, Viago!" she teased, sitting atop him with her dark hair cascading from her shoulders and down the sides of his face. Still chuckling, Elsa leaned closer to peck his forehead.

"Stop mucking about!" he tried to push her off although it was obvious to them both that there was nowhere he'd rather be but with her, in spite of whatever she could put him through. This was proven time and time again. There was nothing his sister could do that can make Viago desert her.

"Don't brood..." she raked her nails through his shirt, kneading his chest then forearms in a way she knew would make him tingle. "I don't want you to be in such a spoil-sport mood during your special day."

Viago exhaled. He then framed her hips with his hands so he can help her balance herself as she resumes this devil's tango he has no urgent wish to ever end, especially not today of all days.

The fullness of it flooded him at the moment, more stinging than the sunburn earlier. He might as well have been cast into the ocean with Elsa as his only anchor. He would drown if he even dared let go—and she knew this. His love and devotion to her were something she enjoyed exploiting to her leisure after all. 

Again, he didn't care. Viago was content to follow her around wherever she stalked and, on occasion, caused mayhem in towns every time she got bored hiding. He cleaned up after her, like any good little brother ought to, even though it never felt right to allow Elsa to run amok. Sooner or later their pair will catch the attention of more vigilant human folk—like the Christians, for example, and neither of them wants that.

"I'm famished," she laid slacked against his body there on the floor by now. Their limbs were still slightly entangled after their excursion. 

He knew that the morning would not stop her from trying to acquire prey to hunt down, so he suggested instead, "We can try the next few rooms on the hallway outside. You can hypnotize a few of the patrons, ja?" With his left arm caught under her, Viago rubbed her shoulder, "We can have a breakfast spread of a sort, which is something ideal for a birthday, I guess. It had been a while since I had a good one."

"Ja," Elsa was at least lukewarm to the idea, "Why not? Let's try that, brother. It could be memorable."

And it had been memorable, though not in the way Viago hoped.

 

 

 

  
✧✦

 

 

He thinks about that last birthday with Elsa as he sits among Vlad, Deacon and the twins inside the pub. The memory of it was like a wound whose scab he kept on picking, which was the only reason why it couldn't fully heal. Afterwards he stands up to linger behind the bar in an attempt to diffuse the glumness in his demeanor. No one seems to pay mind that he left for a moment so he makes the most of that by pretending to select a bottle of wine on the top shelf. 

Deacon had filled two bottles with blood earlier, and the combined taste was not entirely bad. Maybe they could drain another human and make the same concoction again. 

"Are you having fun, Viago?" It was Vlad. He'd been acting slightly bizarre since that trick with the large anaconda occurred. The defects on his shape-shifting powers have gotten worse. Perhaps it was yet another side-effect of Pauline. The dandy supposed both of them were still haunted by the women in their past who betrayed them and left a huge chunk of who they are less whole than it used to be.

He faces his friend with a knowing smile, "This was really touching of you and Deacon to do. I haven't done this in a while, let alone with people I can call real friends."

Pouring wine into a glass as a mere gesture of gratitude, he slides it towards Vlad. 

"Glad to hear, but you don't seem as enthused. You told me that if I ever want to talk about things that I should just come to you, no? Well, that goes both ways."

Viago's smile becomes more genuine this time because he could see how obviously uncomfortable Vlad is about his own proposal, which made it rather endearing to see unfold from where he was standing. Although the dandy can acknowledge that this was the same man who inspired terror across Europe during the Middle Ages, it was still history that he had never witnessed firsthand himself, and therefore he has no reason to ever feel threatened or scared in Vlad's presence.

To him, he will always be that wounded vampire who got stabbed in the eye with an enchanted horn, courtesy of his ex-girlfriend. And there was something sweet about finding Vladislav like that; stubborn and helpless, and quite in dire need for someone to tell him that he deserved something more than a vicious cycle of love and hate.

"Thank you for offering," he replies as he reaches to pat Vlad on the back of his hand. He gives it a squeeze too for good measure, "I'm glad you've really warmed up to me. Your friendship has been a balm to the soul, in ways I don't think I can even put into words."

"Oh. Okay, Then don't. This is fine." 

Vlad blinks, looking very baffled, but he doesn't try to remove his hand from Viago's grasp, even though he looks sorely torn about letting the touch go on for another second. It was so strange; have they not slept together once or twice over the course of their flatting situation? Sex was like any other hunger that needed to be satiated, which was why they had engaged in it with each other here and there, often after a feeding, as easy as lighting a cigarette.

"You shouldn't be so shy around me," Viago has to declare, "We're good friends, ja? And good friends like you and me can do away with the awkwardness."

"Right," the older vampire doesn't seem too convinced, so Viago lets his hand go and instead used that same hand to pat Vlad's cheek this time.

"I don't know about you," he adds, "But I'm in it for the long haul, as that American idiom says."

Vlad scoffs, "I don't like idioms. What does that one even mean?"

"Well," Viago crosses over to the other side of the bar so he can sit on the stool next his friend, "I think it means that you're ready for a full commitment with something or somebody. Or both."

The older vampire gets quiet, almost as if he's reflecting further on that phrase. And then he asks, "Do you mean to say...we are now in a committed relationship together?" But then he hurriedly rectifies with, "...as flatmates, is what I meant about that."

Viago doesn't really care for any clear-cut distinction, which Vlad seems to be fishing for. However, he recognizes that this could be a significant turning point for them, so he decides to be as delicate about it as possible.

"I've learned a lot about myself in the last century since moving here to New Zealand and living with you," he explains as he rests his back against the counter, all while facing the other side of the room where Deacon and the twins are currently dancing to the music. "And I can say that some of it was for the better than for the worse. Being on the run, avoiding persecution and just the overall chaos that follows around a vampire can be very exhausting, ja?"

He shakes his head, "Now, there had been many good things in my life before that I didn't want to end, without truly understanding what that would entail. Thanks to becoming a vampire, I realized that 'forever' is not meant for any of us to have, which makes what we are an anomaly. Being a vampire means there is less room for us grow and less people to hold onto as real. 'Forever' makes everything lose its meaning eventually. Don't you think?"

He stays silent for several moments to let his words sink in first.

"But now I have this."

He glances at Vlad afterwards, smiling, as some type of warmth actually emanates from it, "I have you. And you, Vladislav, are the best part of calling Wellington home for me."

"Wow," is all Vlad says as he turns to look at the side, unable to bear the way Viago is staring at him. From this angle, however, the dandy could tell he's grinning, which meant that speech pleased him. That made Viago feel good for the both of them.

So he rises to his feet, citing, "Dance with me, Vlad. It's still my birthday and we can't let Deacon and the girls have all the fun. Come on!"

When he offers Vlad his hand, he notices an almost mystified look upon his friend's face, as if he was under some sort of spell. Ah, how nostalgic! The magic will soon wear off, no doubt, just like in any fairy tale, but for now this was their story to write, a story that is the closest thing to forever. And in spite of the blood and bleakness that coated the pages, Viago is still a romantic at heart, who doesn't take a long time to fall in love with anyone, but is now learning, through centuries of hardship, what love is.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These flashback thingies have been elaborate, I know, but they were important to contextualize the story at present. Speaking of, I'm taking us all back there for the next chapter, and pick up where I've left Katherine, Viago and Nick in that retirement home. And then we'll also have Vlad and Deacon trying to figure out how to handle the situation, now that they have just confessed that they're both in love with Viago. Stu may even make an appearance. We love Stu. Stu is great.


End file.
